


Destiny Shots

by DragonThistle



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: KH 3 headcanons sort of, Multi, Vanitas is still an asshole, angst and fluff abound, headcanons and non canon drabbles, one big happy Keybearer family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 10:45:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 54
Words: 45,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3647358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonThistle/pseuds/DragonThistle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Destiny is what you are supposed to do in life. Fate is what kicks you in the ass to make you do it." Kingdom Hearts one shots, in no particular order and generally unconnected. Copious amounts of friendship, fluff, and angst all bunched together in one big (maybe not quite so) happy Keybearer family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Brawler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even in dreams, the body forgets pain and remembers fear.

Riku has managed to pry the boards off one of the windows in the backstreets of Traverse Town and climb into the vacant apartment beyond. He knows it’s vacant because this entire dream world Traverse Town is vacant except for the kids he’d run into and he hasn’t seen them for a while now.

The young Keybearer brushes his knees off and stumbles across the room to paw along the wall for a light switch. It’s dark in here, the streetlights outside barely reaching past the open windows, and he stubs his toes and bangs his shins a couple of times before his questing fingers find the switch. He squints in the burst of light and looks around the room.

A bedroom. Perfect. There’s a vanity against one wall with the mirror covered in a cloth, a fully dressed queen bed opposite it, a dresser with all the drawers missing, and only two of the four walls have wallpaper. Riku raises an eyebrow; this is a dream world but fragmented rooms are a first.

The rippling sound of reality (dream-ality?) bending to make room for something that wasn’t there before and a burst of bright lights announce that Riku’s Spirits have followed him up. The Komory Bat immediately starts investigating all the corners of the room, squeaking and fluttering his wings, and the Keeba Tiger prowls right up to the bed and hops on. Riku lets her, he doesn’t have a use for it yet (also he’s not sure if the Spirits actually _have_ genders but it’s easier for him to think they do).

The Keybearer yanks the cloth off the mirror on the vanity and leans forward to inspect his reflection.

It’s not a pretty sight.

He’s scrambled away from a fight with that giant bruiser in the sewers beneath the town again. For a monster that big, they guy moves really fast. And hits really hard. One of Riku’s eyes is swelling with a nasty bruise, there’s a cut on his cheek, and all manner of other scrapes and bruises on his body. His chest hurts a lot. He hopes that doesn’t mean a broken rib or something. Cure spells are all well and good for injuries of the heart or minor scrapes and a boost of energy. But for these heavier injuries, the best medicine is some good old R&R.

But just to be safe, Riku retrieves a small bottle of Hi-potion from the space between spaces that mysteriously holds all his gathered material. He hisses at the Keeba Tiger and she hisses back but rolls over to make room for him. He climbs onto the bed, leaning against her surprisingly cool side with a soft noise of pain. His back is starting to hurt after being slammed into various solid objects.

Now that he’s stopped moving, a lot of him is starting to hurt. Running through the streets, bouncing off the walls with bursts of energy, and knocking Dream Eaters out of the way, Riku had been too preoccupied to truly take stock of the beating his body had taken. Now, here, resting on the bed, he’s beginning to realize that he probably should have rested a while ago.

His head hurts (every inch of him hurts to be fair), his limbs are heavy, and his skin feels prickly. He’s tired. He’s been diving from world to world, fighting with all his strength, only stopping when his mind grows weary and the world wavers and he finds himself slipping on the insubstantial ground beneath his feet. He knows his heart rests in those moments and sometimes he thinks maybe he can hear Sora’s voice calling from across the void of their dreams. But then the moment is over and the ground is solid and the world is heavy and he’s fighting again.

Sometimes he wonders if he is sleeping during those times, suspended in time and space, floating in the haze of half remembered dreams. But when he tries to figure it out, nothing makes sense like it’s supposed to. He goes somewhere, he’s sure of it, but where he isn’t certain.

The Keeba Tiger is purring and it vibrates in his chest. He realizes he’s been spacing out, staring at the ceiling as his headache thuds in his temples. The Hi-potion bottle is still cool in his hands. He pulls the cork out and takes a long, slow drink. It tastes like green and gold, like summer time, sweet and bright. He swirls some around in his mouth before swallowing, cleaning out the cuts.

There’s a snuffling, a flutter of wings, and the Komory Bat collides with the bed. He doesn’t really have limbs (except for those tiny legs that don’t really support his weight) so landing anywhere is difficult for him but he uses his wings to propel himself to Riku’s side and snuggle up against him. Riku winces—pretty sure that’s the side that T-boned into the lamp post—but doesn’t push the Spirit away. Another cool, healing, presence at his side.

Riku closes his eyes, letting his head loll back against the Keeba Tiger behind him. He’s tired, he’s drained, he’s sore. But he’s not beaten, he’s still fighting. As his thoughts start to wander and his heart opens wider, he can feel the bright, loving light of the creatures beside him.

And somewhere, far off in another dream, he can see the dazzling lights of a dozen familiar hearts.

And connected to them is the brightest heart of all.


	2. Sparkle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riku struggles more with himself than with the Dream Eaters sometimes.

In some ways, the Keyblade is a sentient thing. It knows what it wants, it knows where it should be, and it knows how best to draw out the latent powers of its wielder. This was probably something Sora had figured out a long time ago but Riku, who has not truly carried a Keyblade until recently, is finding it out now.

It is interesting to have an extension of his heart know more about him than he does. Riku thought, after all his trials and stumbling through the dark, that he knows his heart and himself pretty well. The Keyblade is proving differently. It would tug his heart in a direction and he would put his body into motion without thought, following his heart and, he discovered, his Keyblade.

He’d ignored it, at first, he admitted that much. But having had his heart jerked around by so many others, manipulated and smothered and nearly broken, he was understandably wary of any sensation that was not his heart calling to his friends or his own decisions. But then, in the heat of battle, he’d surrendered to it briefly without thinking. He’d dispatched the Dream Eaters faster and more efficiently than ever.

He’d started paying attention after that.

Riku is no scientist (in fact the very idea of mimicking what Ansem/Xehanort/Xemnas had done makes his stomach twist) but he has taken to paying more attention to things, trying to put them together and figure them out, trying to understand himself and his heart. And now his Keyblade. He wants to understand. Maybe a part of him needs to. Before he had only been obsessed with strength, with power, with getting his way. Only later did he realize the fault of his actions and by then it was too late.

He’s vowed to never be that way again.

He isn’t scared of the darkness, he knows now that it cannot harm him as it once had, not with his heart as strong and bright as it is now. But he is wary of it. The darkness seems so easy, so fast, so powerful. His Keyblade seems to be aware of it. Acutely aware of it, in fact, given that it often directs his moves to sweep up the shadows and curl them around his form.

The first time he does this, he feels cold inside. He thought he’d left this all behind, he thought he was done with the darkness, that he’d driven it off. But it’s still there, squatting in his heart, and he wretches. He can’t help it. He _remembers_. He knows what he did. It makes him sick.

He takes five in an alley, pressing his head against the wall, feeling his hair snag on the bricks as he tries to breathe and ground himself. His Spirits, aware of his inner discord, give him some space but they prowl the alley around him, keeping an eye out for wayward Nightmares. He can sense their protective natures tingling at the edges of his mind and heart but they’re not what he’s focused on right now. He is dwelling on the boil of darkness clinging stubbornly to the light of his heart. He wants it to go away, he wants to be rid of it. He wants to be a part of only the light. Like Sora.

And then he feels petty and stupid for thinking like that.

He’s not jealous of Sora, not anymore. He’s just so wary of the person he used to be, the way his heart had been so saturated with darkness. He tries to remember what the King told him. There is darkness in every heart and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It keeps them human, it keeps their hearts strong, it makes them struggle for themselves. It’s a balance, the darkness cannot exist without the light and the light cannot exist without the darkness. They need each other. Riku himself is a representation of that balance if he can only find the middle ground. Riku can use his darkness and he knows he still can. But it won’t overpower him.

It still takes him a while to get used to using the darkness though.

He takes some time to practice, trying to get used to the feel of it without flinching whenever he uses it. The texture of the darkness changes, depending on how he’s using it; sometimes it’s slippery, sometimes it’s heavy and cold, sometimes it’s thin and papery, sometimes it’s like fire, and sometimes it’s like ice. He can’t say he’s not fascinated by how it changes. He’d never noticed before, too busy being hungry for it’s power and then wallowing in the regret of it to pay attention, but now he’s curious. The darkness is as multifaceted as the light. Not that he knows much about wielding the light, but that’s just from observation.

It takes him a while to actually work up the courage to start experimenting with the darkness.

The first couple of times he’s rushed with feelings of disgust and regret and self-loathing. He has to choke down the acid taste in his throat, sit down and collect himself. It wastes what is probably valuable time and for all he knows this could be earning him bad points in the Mark of Mastery Exam (is Master Yen Sid keeping score?). But he has to try, he has to know. The darkness won’t go away but it’s not going to control him either. It is his own creation and he commands it, if with the wariness it deserves.

Riku plays with the idea of a shield first (he tries not to think about how he got the idea from Xemnas). That’s the easiest and most distant use of the darkness, keeping it away from his body. This use of the darkness (and he’s starting to categorize them somehow but he couldn’t say why) feels like scraping his fingertips along an old stone wall. It is ancient and it is vast and it has withstood all the time and weathering of man and nature and when he calls on it, it rears up around him fast as lightning and as dense as storm clouds. He feels surprisingly safe at its touch. When he feels he can safely create a very solid, glittering, hard (if momentary) shield, he moves on.

He tries fire and is actually pleased to find it’s regular fire and not the black-purple-blue of dark fire (although he does discover that if he wants to be particularly destructive that dark fire spell is ready to leap to his fingertips with barely a thought). He goes through his usual list of spells and finds them all to be fairly normal. Nothing dark related there.

He wonders what would happen if he pours darkness down his Keyblade. So, after some trial and error, he manages it. The results are quick and destructive. He can’t keep it focused for long but the pull and thrust and swirl of darkness tears through Dream Eaters easily. And while it’s satisfying it’s hard to follow through such broad, spinning strokes fluidly with another attack.

And here again his Keyblade knows what to do.

During one such destructive spin, he feels something bright and hot pierce down his Keyblade and suddenly he’s throwing himself back the way he came in a whirlwind of gold-white and sparks.

He has channeled _light_.

The exhilaration spurs Riku to new heights, new experiments, new strength. He can channel _light_. He’s bursting to tell Sora. Actually he’s bursting to spar with Sora. Surely Sora is learning new abilities as well, whatever dream he might be in.

They definitely need to spar when this is all over.


	3. Splinters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You've changed."

When Axel—Lea, it’s Lea now—meets Saix’s—Isa’s?—gaze in that searingly white chamber in the world that is more of a nightmare than a dream, he knows it’s over.

He’d felt it falling apart when Roxas had first appeared in the Organization. But he’d ignored it because they’d made a plan. And it was a good plan. The best plan.

And yet, somehow, it had failed.

“You’ve changed.”

He hasn’t changed. No, it was Saix who had changed. Somewhere along the line, something had started to fray, like a rope being pulled too tight. Something had been picked apart bit by careful bit and Saix had drifted away without it there. And before Axel had known what was happening, there was a deep void between them.

So he’d given up on Saix.

Or he thought he had.

He was going to do his own thing. Get Roxas back, disrupt the Organization, put things back the way they were _supposed_ to be. He’d get his heart back with or without Saix.

And he kind of had, in a way. Well, he’d gotten his heart back anyway. 

He knows Roxas isn’t coming back. Roxas can’t come back, not now. Sora needs his heart to be whole and Lea—while he doesn’t want to—has to respect that. So he figures maybe he can patch things up with Saix (maybe it’s Isa now, maybe he has his heart back too).

But the second he meets those cold golden eyes, he knows differently.

The void that had grown between them is now a canyon so wide and so deep that he cannot see the other side nor the bottom. Saix—Isa—is long gone. He’s part of Xehanort’s hold now, apparently one of these thirteen darknesses, doomed to be in the dark and without his heart forever.

Lea is suddenly crushed.

It’s amazing how much it hurts. Someone’s drilling into his chest with an ice pick and it makes his gut clench and his mouth taste like bile. No one told him it would be this way. He’s not ready for it. A part of him hates it. A part of him is breaking. He thinks it might be his heart.

They used to be friends.

That’s long gone now.

And when he has his Keyblade in his hand—a hot, comforting weight that sits there easier and more comfortably than his chakrams ever did—he knows something else too.

He knows he’s going to have to fight Saix.

He wonders if he can.


	4. Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The darkness grants all kinds of powers.

Riku is no stranger to pain.

Of any kind, if he’s being honest. But the physical pain of the body is nothing compared to the crushing pain of the heart. And Riku’s heart has been through a lot. Steeped in darkness, drowned in it, dragged slowly from it, blinded by light, only to be smothered in darkness again before the light put him back together again.

It’s been a rough couple of years.

And this Mark of Mastery Exam is proving even rougher.

Riku’s learning new abilities not just because he’s pushing himself too but because he’s _forced_ to. If he doesn’t step up his game, then the Nightmares will rip him to shreds. He needs to learn to be faster, stronger, to condense his moves into only the necessary actions, and to channel his heart’s strength as much as he can. It’s tough and it’s tiring and he doesn’t think he’s ever pushed himself this hard before.

But this is his chance to make things right. It’s his redemption. And he’s going to put every ounce of his being into this.

And he does. Literally.

It’s a rather desperate struggle against a vicious pack of Aura Lion and Tyranto Rex Nightmares and Riku and his Spirits are getting roughed up something terrible. He’s used his Cure spell so many times he’s afraid he won’t have the energy to cast it anymore. But they need to get through this blockade, there’s an area of respite just on the other side, Riku can feel it. If only they could get through.

The Keyblade is humming in his hand. It knows something but Riku is too tired to try and listen. He swings the weapon around, throwing his weight after it, and lets it carry him in a spinning arc that bashes into the nearest Tyranto Rex. The large Nightmare stumbles back with a roar and then lunges at him. Riku dodges out of the way, wrapping himself in darkness and zipping out of reach. He lingers on the fringes of the battlefield, watching his Spirits struggle against the Nightmares. They’re failing without him and he can’t leave them to collapse into pieces.

But as he takes a step, his Keyblade vibrates and a bolt like electricity shoots up his arm straight into his heart. He goes down on one knee, hand fisted in his shirt, sucking in a sharp breath. And he feels it.

He feels what a sensation like that can do and he understands.

The Keybearer grits his teeth and stands up again. His grip tightens on his Keyblade. It knew. It always knew. He really needs to learn to listen to it more.

He’ll have to work on that after he’s recovered from what he’s about to do.

Riku charges back into the fray. He skids to a halt in what is relatively the middle of the churning mass of Dream Eaters, plants his feet, and executes the move his Keyblade just taught him.

Pain rips through his heart. Black lights bloom like flowers behind his eyes and he grits his teeth against crying out. This is a dark move, born from the shadows in his heart. But it will be devastating.

Whips of black and red energy condense around him, whirling around his body. Whirling _from_ his body. They tear away from his heart, sucking his strength away and pouring it into the Keyblade. It builds and builds and Riku is going cold with the pain that’s making his body tremble. He can’t take it anymore.

He unleashes all of that agony on the Nightmares closest to him.

Ropes of darkness and suffering peel from his blade and rip into the Dream Eaters even as his Keyblade collides with them. They roar and screech and burst apart in colorful explosions of Dream Pieces and Droplets.

Riku doesn’t land right when he comes out of the moves and ends up crashing to the ground. He rolls, skinning his bare arms on the pavement, and only stops when he bumps into a wall. He lays there for a moment, a little stunned by the attack he’s just pulled off. Then, limbs shivering with the effort, he pushes himself up again. His Keyblade was knocked out of his grip when he fell and is laying a few feet away.

It’s back in his hand in seconds in a flurry of lights and twisting shadows.

He yanks out a Hi-potion, pulls the cork out with his teeth, and swallows it in one gulp. Then he dashes the empty bottle to the ground where it shatters with a satisfying burst of glass and dives back into the scattered remains of the fight.

He won’t be telling anyone about that attack.

And he certainly won’t be telling them how satisfying it was to let others feel the pain in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it's not clear, this is based on a command Riku can use in Dream Drop Distance called Sacrifice where he takes a good chunk out of his health to do massive damage to enemies. I'm not particularly fond of the move myself but I wanted to write something based on it.


	5. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing can save you, little vessel...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn’t entirely canon and takes place near the end of 3d. I just got this thought in my head and couldn’t let it go.

Sora gets the feeling that it’s dark but there are so many lights in this city that he’s not sure why he feels that way. Aside from it being night. But this is a different sensation of dark. The bad kind of dark, the one he usually associates with the Heartless. But there are no Heartless in this dream and the Nightmares aren’t even that scary despite their name.

But something’s…off. Something’s felt off ever since he’s stepped into The World That Never Was. The dream version of it, anyway. He’s never been comfortable here; it’s cold and rainy and dark, the exact opposite of places Sora usually likes. He’s from a world of sunshine and hot sands. But that’s not what’s bothering him now. What’s making his skin crawl is something like

_“Sora! Sora, you’ve got to wake up! Don’t follow the dreams, they’ll only lead you into darkness!”_

when he lost his heart in Hollow Bastian. Or did he give it up? He’d unlocked it, hadn’t he, to save Kairi? Yeah, it hadn’t been lost. But it had fallen into darkness and that had been like this. A sinking sensation, a smothering darkness, all of it pressing against his heart.

Sora pauses in the streets, frowning, and puts a hand to his chest. It’s warm. He still has his heart. He keeps walking. His footsteps seem loud amongst the empty window eyes of the skyscrapers. The Keyblade feels heavy in his hand but he doesn’t want to

_let it go just let go let it go let go let go let go_

banish it just yet. He can’t say why.

The Keybearer keeps walking. And, after a time, he realizes that he’s been walking alone for some time now. His Spirits are gone. He turns around, calling for them, but there is no answer. He turns to face the way he’s going. Then he looks around again.

It looks the same.

It all looks the same.

The same narrow street between skyscrapers, shadowed from the gloomy sky overhead with neon signs and glowing windows the only light. It’s the same in either direction, stretching on and on with no end in sight. Sora swallows and forces down the panic in his chest. He is not afraid. There’s nothing to be afraid of here. He’ll get out of this, just like he always does. He’s strong. He has his Keyblade. He has his friends. He has his heart. He has the light. He can do this.

He turns around and keeps walking, trying to ignore the way the chill seems to be seeping into his skin.

**You’re sinking. Don’t go that way. Don’t go.**

Sora glances up at the churning clouds overhead. Thunder rumbles. He shudders. Is it just him or is it getting darker?

Someone’s laughing. It comes from all around him and he stops in his tracks. It sounds like Kairi. He calls her name. It sounds muffled, confined. He doesn’t like it. The laughter fades away. He feels more alone than ever.

_“Sora, you’ve got to_

**Stop. Don’t go that way. Don’t sink into the dark.**

_wake up! Sora! Sora!”_

**Please. Turn back. Wake up. Don’t go**

It is getting darker. Sora feels heavy. He feels tired. He drops the Keyblade and it vanishes in a burst of light before it hits the ground. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to hold onto his warmth. Where is Riku? Where is Kairi? Where’s their island? He wants to go back. He wants to go home. He wants to

_sleep just sleep it will be time soon sleep vessel sleep sleep sleep_

run in the broad, light filled halls of Destiny Island again. Halls? No, that’s not right. He tries to think of his home but the image is smeared together with other places. He tries to think of his friends and their faces are blurred out. Their voices sound like they’re far away. Sora shakes his head, trying to fight off the haze that’s clinging to the edges of his vision. He wants

_“I can’t reach him! He won’t wake up! Sora, open your eyes!”_

**that way. If you keep going you’ll**

_have all the power you desire if you just go to sleep_

**fall into darkness. You’ll fall too deep and nothing will save you. I know you’re not afraid of the darkness but you need to turn back. You need to**

_close your eyes and sleep little vessel just sleep_

**find them. Find your light. Please. Don’t go that way.**

to get out of this dumb dream world and get back to everyone else. He’s starting to think that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t actually part of Master Yen Sid’s Mark of Mastery Exam. Maybe somewhere along the lines he did something wrong. Maybe he’s being punished for something. Sora wracks his brain, trying to figure out what happened, all the while stumbling down an endless street as the shadows thicken and the lights dim.

His thoughts wander. They’re scattered. They turn to dark things. He remembers when Riku stole the Keyblade from him ( _was it really stealing if it was his in the first place? you were never supposed to have it, Sora, it was supposed to be Riku’s_ ). He remembers the pain of unlocking his heart and plunging it into darkness. He remembers when Terra left him standing alone in the Land of Departure ( _that’s not your memory, give it back_ ). He remembers watching his home crumble away into darkness. He remembers shutting Riku behind the Door ( _you should have left him there, look what kind of mess he’s gotten you into_ ). He remembers things he’d rather not remember at all.

**You’re too far away. You can’t even hear them now. I’m sorry this happened. This is my fault. You tried to help me and all I’ve done is**

_rest sleep close your eyes let it all go and sleep in the darkness_

**cause you trouble. I’m sorry, Sora. I’m so sorry. This is all I can do to help you. This is everything I can spare. I hope it protects you.**

_NOTHING CAN SAVE YOU NOW VESSEL_

Sora looks up and it’s through tinted glass and there’s a warmth wrapped around him. Armor, he thinks vaguely. It’s heavy and reassuring. He feels safe inside it. It will protect him.

Then the world drops out from underneath him. Everything turns black.

The darkness seeps into the chinks in the armor and smoothers it. It’s suddenly icy cold. If he had the energy to, Sora would scream.

But he can’t so all he does is close his eyes and fall into darkness.


	6. Pieces of Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want to line the pieces up, yours and mine.

The first time Riku makes a Spirit, he does it completely by accident.

He’s sitting in a commandeered and vacant bedroom in dream Traverse Town, sorting through these remnants of the destroyed Dream Eaters. He turns the pieces over in his hands, examining them, curious and not a little wary. They all look and feel differently, not just in texture and appearance but also in the emotional response he gets from them.

There’s a cloudy purple one filled with a swirling arrow shape that feels remarkably heavy despite it’s fluffy appearance that he rolls around in his hands like a stone. It feels…troubling, like a thought weighing heavily on the mind. He pushes it aside, frowning, and picks up one that looks like a twisted disc of blue and gold tangled with stars. It thrums against his palm, twitching, spiraling of its own accord. It reminds him of running on the beaches of Destiny Island, the sheer exhilaration, the freedom, the openness of the sky and the wideness of the ocean, running rampant in the white sands.

He continues picking though them all and realizes that they are literally pieces of dreams. Scattered hopes, lost fantasies, fragmented figments, forgotten sorrows. Pieces of the dreaming worlds molded together and then broken apart ( _a far off memory that’s like a scattered dream_ ). Like pieces of a heart, he thinks. He’s not sure why he’s been picking them up ( _I want to line the pieces up_ ) but he’s too interested to leave them laying around and risk the Nightmares doing something with them. He’s even finding pieces he doesn’t remember getting ( _yours, and mine_ ). Apparently he’s sharing his dream inventory with Sora. This could be interesting.

Riku keeps picking through his findings, pushing them around the floor while his Komory Bat bobs around the room, squeaking as he goes. He ignores the Spirit for the most part and holds up a small cube like Dream Piece. It’s strangely cool and hard, like tempered ice, and there is a curl of jagged white in its dense center, like a galaxy and a million stars trapped in a cube. Riku holds it up to the light, squinting at it, turning it this way and that. It weighs on his chest, a sense of dread, the grim gray of storm clouds on the horizon. He sniffs and tosses it aside.

A little too forcefully. It rolls like a dice across the carpet and lands on a blue-green bubble like Dream Piece with a dollop of white-gold and a swirl of pink at its center—he remembers it hummed when he picked up, a sweet lullaby melody half remembered that made him think of bright colors and the thrill of candy as a child. But as he turns around to retrieve it, there’s a bright swell of light.

Riku shields his eyes and when the light fades, he has to take a moment to stare in amazement. Because standing proudly over him is a Yoggy Ram. But it’s not in the colors of the Nightmares. This Ram is pure white, its elegant spiral markings orange and pink, its mane a soft cloud of turquoise, and its great horns a royal shade of purple.

It—she, Riku wants to call the Ram a she for whatever reason—leans her head down and sniffs at him, her friendly yellow and black eyes looking right through him. He tilts his head ever so slightly, slowly raises his hand ( _but don’t be afraid_ ), and rests his palm against her nose. She remains still for a moment and then pulls back, snorting and tossing her great head ( _and don’t forget_ ). Then she trots away to investigate the room.

The Keybearer still sitting on the floor watches curiously as the newly formed Yoggy Ram Spirit and the Komory Bat Spirit touch noses and appear to exchange information. He can feel her, connected to his heart just as the Bat is ( _you hold the mightiest weapon of all_ ), emotions reverberating down a link he’s not sure he quite understands yet. But he knows there is power in that link and he’s determined to understand it.

Well, at least he knows what these scattered Dream Pieces are for now. Making more Spirits.

Riku wonders how long it will take Sora to start making hoards of new friends.


	7. Opposites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing can stop him when he accesses the power of his Drive Forms! Except maybe the darkness.

Ever since that time at Hollow Bastion, when he’d unlocked his heart and become a Heartless, Sora has become more aware of the darkness. Not in control of it, certainly, but he senses it more often; the tingling wave up his spine before some Heartless appear, the rippling pressure of a corridor of darkness opening up. He can sense them coming.

Not necessarily a bad thing but it does make him wonder if it’s something he should worry about. He doesn’t think it is and Sora isn’t one to worry anyway. So he lets it be. He has an Organization to deal with.

Until the Drive Form happens.

Sora loves his Drive Forms. Once he’s figured out how to trigger and use them, he’s fascinated. He’s so fast and strong! The world feels like it bends around him, the Keyblades are like an extension of himself, and his magic is a pinpoint destructive force. He bounds between forms whenever he can, enjoying the hot vigor of his Valor Form and the cool precision of his Wisdom Form, feeling the power ripple beneath his skin. He’s nearly unstoppable like this, faster, stronger, sharper, and more deadly! Nothing can stop him when he accesses the power of his Drive Forms!

Except maybe the darkness.

Sora hadn’t thought about what opening up his heart so widely like he did to accept the strength of his friends could and would do to him. Because every time he let their light pour in, he also, unknowingly, allowed a few shadows to slip in as well. He sensed something amiss after a while, a sharp something that he couldn’t place. But again, he brushed it off as nothing. His worry over his friends, the condition of the worlds, the strain of fighting so much on his heart; it could be many things but none of them were life threatening.

Then, during a struggle against a hoard of particularly vicious Heartless, Sora opens his heart to access his Valor Form. But instead of light there is a surge of darkness. He has a split second of absolute terror as it surges up his body, consuming him, a wave of blackness that seeps into his eyes, his ears, his mouth. It clings to his skin— _seeps inside him_ —and floods his veins. It’s icy and thick and it happens so fast, Sora barely has time to comprehend what’s happened.

And after that it doesn’t matter because after that he’s hungry.

That’s the best way he can think to describe it, when he thinks about it later. Because at that moment he doesn’t think at all. At that moment, when he’s smothered in darkness and his eyes are glowing an empty yellow, he simply _is_. He’s hungry and he’s wild and he knows he’s powerful.

He’s crouched low to the ground, ripples of darkness peeling off his frame and when he shifts he trails them in his wake like banners. The Heartless surrounding him hesitate; they’re not sure what to make of this dark creature. But he knows what to make of them. He launches himself at the nearest one, hooks his claws under it’s armor, and flings himself up into the air, ripping it to pieces. It dissolved in a burst of dark dust and a crystalline heart vanished into the sky.

But he’s already moving again. He’s bouncing around the battlefield, tearing into Heartless and reveling in it. He races around the ground on all fours, claws skittering on the hard pavement, ropes of darkness rolling behind him. He moves so quickly the rest can’t keep up, the dark energy powering through him. He is one with the shadows, ducking in and out of them with ease. He is nothing more than anger and hunger and desire and wild intentions. He has no sense of self outside of causing as much destruction as possible. A very focused destruction. The destruction of the Heartless.

He rips and tears, he kicks and bites, he slams his entire body into beings three times his size and ignores the pain of their blows. He never blocks, he never defends, he never tries to stop their attacks. He has no strategy outside of _destroy_. And he doesn’t need strategy. He may be wild but he knows he’s powerful and these puny creatures cannot hope to stop him.

Sure enough, in a manner of minutes, they’re all gone. More could always show up but they won’t. The Heartless obey whoever’s strongest but they also have enough sense to know when to be afraid of something more powerful than they are. And, oh, he is _so_ much more powerful.

He settles back to the ground, hissing and growling, guttural inhuman noises. His yellow eyes track across the empty lot and he sniffs the air. There is _light_ nearby. He whirls around, finds two beings of light backed against a wall, watching him. He shifts his weight, ready to pounce not because they are light but because he can sense their intentions to do him harm. But his legs are shaking, he feels heavy, tired, and—dare he consider it— _weak_.

He sinks to his knees, hands pressing against the stone. The darkness is peeling away from his body, revealing weak human skin ( _pink, it’s pink, it’s normal, not weak_ ), blunt human teeth no good for tearing and biting ( _don’t need to bite people that’s stupid_ ), and clawless fingers ( _no, no, no, don’t need claws, claws are like them, I am not like_ them). He gasps, yellow fading from his eyes until they are crystal blue again, his chest heaves, and he collapses onto the ground, shuddering. The sudden surge of power leaving his body is too much, he’s stunned by it, his thoughts scrambled.

_attack attack fight bite tear attack attack fight attack_

_no, they’re gone, nothing left to fight, stop it, tired, I’m tired_

_mine mine this is my spot my spot mine attack bite bite attack_

_stop it, stop it, I don’t think like this, stop it_

_get away get away get away mine mine attack get away mine get away get_

“GET AWAY!” Sora shouts the words before he can understand that he’s saying them. Donald and Goofy, who had run to him as soon as he collapsed, take a step back.

Sora shivers. That was _darkness_. He had wrapped himself in darkness, he had used it, he had let it use him. He swallows and his mouth is dry and his throat hurts. With shaking limbs he pushes himself up, taking deep breaths.

“Sora? Gawrsh, are you okay?” Goofy asks and Sora can’t bring himself to look him in the eye. He feels dirty. He didn’t just get rid of those Heartless, he’d _destroyed_ them. And he’d liked it.

“No.” Sora murmurs, “I don’t think so. I think…that was a bad thing I just did…” He flexes his fingers, looking at nails where claws used to be, “I don’t feel—guys, that was _darkness_ I just used!” He finally raises his head, distressed, confused.

They look at him for a moment, then at each other, then back at him. And Donald says, “I don’t think it was _that_ bad though. You did get rid of the Heartless.”

Sora gapes at him.

“Well, gee, Sora, think of it this way,” Goofy puts in, “Your friend Riku channeled darkness and he got out okay, didn’t he?”

“I…I don’t know. That’s what this is about, that’s why I’m looking for him!” Sora argued. Then he sighed, shoulders slumping, “I let the power go to my head and the darkness took advantage of it. I need to be more careful…”

“Maybe it wasn’t the darkness manipulating you, though.” Donald suggests, looking more like he’s thinking aloud than anything else, “You didn’t attack _us_ or anyone else, you only destroyed the Heartless. Maybe you were channeling the darkness and just acted on—on instinct! That’s not a bad thing!”

Sora frowns, still confused, still shaken and wary of what has just happened. Goofy leans down and puts a hand on his shoulder, “Donald’s right, Sora. You were still you, just kinda…kinda opposite! Really angry and aggressive and bitey! You’re still Sora no matter what happens.”

Sora looks up at his friends with a smile and nods enthusiastically, “Yeah. Yeah, okay! You’re probably right! And, hey, I feel fine now!” He rolls to his feet, stretching, “Yep! No dark tendencies here, haha!” He grins his trademark grin, hands on his hips, “Okay, guys, who’s up for some good ol’ R&R!” And he takes off running back the way they came before the other two can get a word in.

True, he is feeling a bit better after the pep talk. But his smile feels a bit plastered on and he’s still very much aware that he _would_ have attacked Donald and Goofy if they had attacked him first. He’s wary of that darkness now. Not scared of it, but indeed wary. The potential is there, the threat is there, and he doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He doesn’t think he will (that dark form makes him think of a wild dog protecting it’s territory, only a threat if you poke it first) but he wants to be safe, rather than sorry. Still, he can’t help but remember how much power that dark form (anti-form?) had held. It could be useful in a tight spot.

Sora isn’t stupid. And he knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Even if that gift horse has sharp teeth and glowing yellow eyes.

 


	8. Make Something Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes when they get ice cream together, Sora cries.

Sometimes when they get ice cream together, Sora cries.

It usually starts with a few blurry tears he can hide or sniffle away. No one says anything about it. And generally that’s where he manages to stop it. But then there are the times when he can’t and the raw emotions catch in his throat and he ends up bawling and by the time he’s calmed down, their ice cream is mostly soup and no one wants to eat anymore anyway.

They don’t sit up on the roofs of each other’s houses anymore to watch the sunset. If they do watch the sunset, it’s on the beach or from their tree on the island. Sora’s usually a lot quieter during those times but at least he doesn’t cry so hard he’s at risk of falling two stories to the ground.

He still spars with Riku but sometimes he seems a blue rubber bat instead of a wooden sword and he has to take five and catch his breath in more ways than one. Sometimes the school hallways feel long and the walls turn white and he closes his eyes and reminds himself that he’s not in a world that’s always dark and always raining and the moon doesn’t look like a heart and his jacket is not a heavy black cloak. Sometimes when they’re called to do routine sweeps of worlds just to check on the darkness, he actively avoids secret corners and groups of laughing friends. He throws himself into battles and doesn’t look back.

Riku and Kairi both suspect they know what’s wrong but they don’t know whether approaching Sora about it will help or not.

Turns out that they don’t need to. Sora brings it up first.

They’re on the tree—their tree—on the island, recuperating after another run off world. It’s hard on their parents when they go and they all know that said parents are afraid one day only two (or worse one) of them will come back. Or none of them will come back. But they have to go. They’re Keybearers. It’s their responsibility.

Kairi is kicking her feet in the air, hands braced on the trunk, looking up at the sky and counting the clouds as they drift away. Sora is, as per tradition, beside her. He’s laying on his back, hands tucked behind his head, one foot propped up on the tree and the other dangling towards the ground. He’s the very picture of relaxation. But his eyes are closed and his breathing is shallow so everyone knows better. Riku looks likes he staring aimlessly out into the ocean from his seat at the base of the tree, arms propped on his knees, head against the trunk. But to anyone who knows him knows he’s obviously keeping an eye on his friends.

There’s a comfortable silence between them. There’s some tension but it’s about things they can’t control and they know it’ll be okay eventually. They sky is perfectly blue, the clouds are perfectly fluffy, the ocean breeze is perfectly cool against the perfect heat of the sun on their skin, and it’s a perfect day on the perfect islands.

“Sorry.” Sora says so suddenly that Kairi jumps at the sound of his voice. Riku looks away from the ocean and up at his friends. Sora’s not looking at either of them; his gaze is watching the palm fronds of the tree and the way the sunlight splinters through them. Or maybe he’s looking past them all at something deeper.

“Don’t apologize.” Riku says, “It’s not your fault.”

“Is it—?” Kairi begins.

“Yeah.” Sora mutters and the word catches in his chest and makes a scratching, warbling noise when it comes out.

Silence like needles. The sunlight isn’t as warm as it was a few seconds ago.

“His memories…I feel them sometimes.” Sora tells the palm fronds quietly, almost like a secret, “And it hurts. I feel selfish. He deserves—“

“We can make something work.” Riku is talking to his fingers tangled together in guilt and regret.

“Riku’s right,” Kairi says and she’s watching both of them, hand on Sora’s knee, hand in Riku’s hair, bridging their guilt, helping them shoulder it, “We’re Keybearers—Riku’s a Keyblade Master—I bet if we put our heads together, we can give everyone what they deserve.”

“Everyone?” Sora opens his eyes and raises his head enough to look at her.

She nods, resolute, stubborn, determined. She could give him a run for his money, “Everyone.” She looks at Riku, tugs at his hair, gets him to look at them, “And we’ll do it together this time.”

“Okay.” He nods and she smiles and Sora cracks a grin. And even if things aren’t okay right now, they’ll make them okay somehow, someday.


	9. Empty Bedrooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One night she wakes up because her left side is cold.

She hates to admit it but sometimes Kairi is afraid that she’ll wake up and find that the boys have left her behind again.

It’s not a fear kind of afraid, more like a bitter kind. Jealousy. A touch of anger. Not a little bit of frustration. She doesn’t care if she was (is?) a princess, that’s not what she wants to be thought of as. She has a Keyblade. She’s a Keybearer now too and she can fight just like them.

They don’t treat her like she’s delicate, of course they don’t. They know better than that. (Riku’s actually really tough on her in training.) But there’s that lingering sensation, that tiny tweak of fear, that one day they’re going to go off without her again. And she doesn’t want them to be separated again. Come hell or high water, they would get through it together.

But that doesn’t stop her from getting up in the middle of the night and making sure that Riku and Sora are both still in their beds.

She doesn’t open doors, just stands outside their rooms and listens to their shuffling and breathing. Sora talks in his sleep; half spoken spells, whispered promises, slurred memories slipping out as he kicks and moves and lives out his dreams with sloppy sleep heavy movements. He’s noisy, always has been, and it’s a wonder he survived out there in the worlds with all the sound he creates. But he’s loud and he’s bright and he’s sleeping safely in the room and that’s good enough for her.

Riku is quiet. Or quieter. He doesn’t talk in his sleep and he doesn’t roll around like an avalanche but he makes little breathy noises that Kairi can hear through the door. They’re sharp, sometimes ragged, sometimes more like hisses between clenched teeth. She thinks maybe he’s having nightmares but she never asks.

She doesn’t do this every night and on every other weekend when they leave the Mysterious Tower to go back home to the Islands she doesn’t sneak out to stand outside their windows at night. She only checks on them on the nights when she’s overwhelmed with the feeling that they’re gone or they’re going to go somewhere and she’ll be left behind again. When the wind outside the tower is particularly strong or it’s particularly dark, she’ll check. When Sora’s been quieter than normal and his smiles look strained and he passes on getting ice cream with everyone after training, she’ll check. When Riku has gone all stiff and won’t look at anyone like he does when he thinks he’s used too much darkness in front of them and they’ll all be ashamed of him, she’ll check. Sometimes she checks on Lea too, listening for his snuffling snores through the door, when he becomes distant and doesn’t say “got in memorized” once all day.

As she becomes more confident and her Keyblade skills increase, she checks less and less. Sometimes she doesn’t have to check at all as she, Riku, and Sora occasionally share a bed, their warmth and arms around each other holding back individual nightmares and fears. She thinks about sleep overs when they were kids and remembers Sora crying about shadows on the walls and Riku making fun of him.

One night she wakes up because her left side is cold and when she looks around, Sora is gone.

That’s unusual. If anyone leaves their snuggle puddle (Riku hates that name but it makes her giggle so Sora uses it all the time), it’s usually Riku. His need for space is smaller but sometimes he gets overwhelms and puts distance between himself and everyone else. She knows he’s still not quite over what he’s done. But he’s getting there.

Sora rarely seems to have any problems. He’s enthusiastic, he’s bright, he’s loud, he’s bouncing, he’s everywhere. He grins and the room lights up. Some people call him an idiot but that’s just because they don’t understand his optimism. So it’s unusual to find him missing from the bed.

She slides away from Riku (he’s stretched out on his side with his back to her, one hand curled around his head), slips out of bed, and pads out of the room. The tower is quiet, everyone asleep after a long day of training. She checks the big room they’ve been using for practice—empty. Yen Sid’s study—empty. The room with the glowing stars in the ceiling Sora liked to stare at—empty. The stairs to the landing—empty.

Kairi feels something like a knot starting to form in her chest because she can’t find him. He’s left again. He’s gone. He’s taken his Keyblade and he’s gone to try and play the hero all by himself. It’s a stupid thing to think, she knows he would never abandon them, especially now after everything. But it’s something that’s lingered dangerously in the back of her mind for the longest time, something she can’t seem to shake.

She finds him, eventually, out on the lawn. He’s sitting in the grass, all hunched shoulders (broad shoulders, he’s grown so much) and curled legs, his head ducked low even as he looks out at the cloudscape around him. His back is to her but she can tell he’s tugging up fistfuls of grass and tossing them around in a distracted way. She sits down beside him and he looks up, startled, not a little embarrassed to be caught sulking. She puts her hand on his and leans against his side. He’s tense, tired, strained, bending under the weight of responsibility. She squeezes his hand; he’s not alone in this, he never was.

Riku finds them a while later, reprimands them both for leaving him cold and alone in the bed. Sora makes some snide remark about Riku doing it all the time and Riku pushes him over. Sora falls into Kairi’s lap and all three of them end up tussling a bit on the ground. Kairi complains about grass stains on her pajamas. Sora laughs. Riku hoists her up over his shoulder and teases about a princess being defeated by grass stains. Sora whines that he wants a ride back to bed too. Riku reminds him he can glide and Sora says that’s not the same. 

They hiss and bicker in whispers all the way back up to the room, Kairi wriggling out Riku’s grip eventually. Sora laughs too loudly at one point and Lea sticks his head out into the hall and grunts at them with sleepy glares until they all swear on their graves to be quiet and duck into their own room. Back in the bed, tired and somehow exhilarated, curled against one another, Sora promises to never ever leave them ever again. Neither of them answer but all three of them know they don’t have to share a star-shaped fruit to have their destinies intertwined.

 


	10. Counting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “God will not look you over for medals, degrees, or diplomas, but for scars.” - Elbert Hubbard

A long time ago, Riku and Sora used to compare scars.

It was in that kiddie, childish way that was just a contest of boyhood coolness to outdo each other. And they didn’t really have scars, not in the way adults did. They had paper cuts and boo-boos healed by mother’s kisses and scraped knees and bruises from wooden swords. But they compared them anyway and boasted and puffed out their chests and tried to be taller than one another.

Now, after so many adventures (trials), they went out of their way to hide them. Or at least they refused to speak about them and gladly tucked them away under sleeves or wristbands. Not out of shame, certainly not out of shame, but more than likely it was out of the desire to try and forget, if just for a moment, the harsh reality that had destroyed the peace they’d once enjoyed.

Riku was shocked, at first, and then later relieved to find that there were no scars in the Realm of Sleep. Nor did scars remain after any battle. But coming back to the real world, he can feel them catch and snag on his clothes, the familiar feel of them momentarily lost in the sensations of “I got used to not having any at all”.

Most things they’ve fought don’t leave scars. Keyblades are weapons of the heart and they damage the heart—or creatures that come from the heart. They fight the light, the darkness, and everything in between. They can be used as bludgeons, to hurt and smack, but they’re not meant to be used like a sword is. They are not weapons for killing. But some of them are still sharp and they leave cuts and scrapes where they slice and bruises where they hit.

The Heartless, Nobodies, and even the Dream Eaters are very much the same. They attacked the heart. Their physical abilities could still hurt but it was nothing compared to the damage they could do to the heart. A Berserker’s claymore could break or bruise some ribs but it could also crush a heart right out of a person’s chest. A Soldier’s claws could leave lacerations on the skin but they could shred a heart like paper no problem. The exception was the Organizations weapons—they were meant only for destruction and the levels of physical harm they caused had been catastrophic in some cases.

That’s all beside the point.

Because the things they’ve fought that do leave scars, that are meant to leave scars, leave big ones.

Riku has one on his side that he knows Sora blames himself for. It’s a gnarled, ghastly thing that crackles when he bends and looks puckered and white when he stretches. It doesn’t hinder his movement at all but he can feel it tugging sometimes and it’s a reminder of how dangerous some of their enemies are.

Sora has one on his chest that no one like to look at. It’s not horrible and mangled, it’s just a jagged slice over the left side of his chest, small despite what it represents. Something like that shouldn’t have left a scar. But apparently, given what it was that had made the scar, that was the price to paid. That Sora had given that scar to himself with a smile on his face makes it all the more painful to look at.

Darkness had left marks on all of them.

Even Kairi, who has nothing visible to display her own trials. She doesn’t have physical scars like the boys did (at least not big battle scars and they intended to keep it that way). The emotional scars, the scars on her heart, those are another story. Those are the scars that they stay up late under the psychedelic stars around the Mysterious Tower murmuring about in secret, consoling one another.

Sometimes Lea joins them. He has scars too. Most of them are on the inside but there’s a twisted, white bunched up gash on his chest he doesn’t talk about. They don’t ask. If he catches anyone looking, he always makes a bad joke like “that’s what happens when you run with scissors” or “dull shaving razors are a bitch”. But the words are always strained through tiny, bitter holes and his smile is so fake it hurts.

They all have scars now. And that’s all right because those scars mean they’ve survived, even if there are bitter memories to go with them. They expect there will be more scars i the future, deeper ones, and ones that probably don’t go away as easily. 

But that’s okay too. That’s why they have each other. And one day, when they’re done fighting, when this war is over, they’ll compare scars again and they’ll be able to laugh like they did a long time ago.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you guys may have noticed I added a bunch of tags and changed the description. That's because I have decided to just. Mash everyone together. I love the Wayfinder Trio and the Seasalt Trio and everyone in between far too much to leave them out of these shots.  
> Sooner or later you will see them start showing up because I think my desperate wish for the end of KH 3 is happy one where everyone comes back and can exist. Even that asshole Vanitas. There will still be a heavy focus on the Destiny Trio and SoRiKai fluffs but, yes, now we will have one big happy Keybearer family to enjoy.  
> Thanks so much for reading!


	11. Difference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re training when it’s brought up.

Lea says, “The only thing I know how to do is make it all burn.”

And gets a variety of looks for it; Sora—confusion, Kairi—wariness, Riku—understanding, the King—pity.

He clarifies, “Fire; it’s all I know how to use. Even my Keyblade knows it,” He holds it up, part his old chakrams, part roaring fireball, all red and orange and sparks and spitfire, “All I’ve ever know is fire and heat. And I’m not complaining—nobody knows fire better than me—but it’d be nice to learn some of those sweet moves you kids keep pulling off.”

“You want to learn more magic?” Sora asks, bouncing his own Keyblade—all white lines and stars and a shell charm on the end—in his grip.

“I want to learn _more_ ,” Lea emphasizes. He spins his Keyblade in his hand like he used to do with his chakram, remembers it can’t spin that way anymore, fumbles with it, lowers it to his side again, “I have a Keyblade. I’m a _Keybearer_ now! I’m stronger. I can do things I couldn’t before, I just don’t know how! I need to learn!”

There’s unspoken words heavy in his voice. Implications of

_I can protect things now_

and somewhere in there

_even if what I really wanted to protect is gone, I can still get stronger for him_

and buried deepest of all

_I need to get stronger, I won’t lose anyone else_

Riku hasn’t said anything but he hasn’t taken his eyes off Lea either. It’s like he’s looking at something other than Lea himself. For whatever reason, Lea doesn’t want to meet his gaze so he looks at Kairi. She’s chewing on her lip, looking thoughtful. She’s new to the Keyblade too but she’s still had it longer than he has and she hasn’t been locked into a single element for years either.

“I can teach you.”

Everyone looks at Riku. He’s completely serious, silver hair in his face, Keyblade loose and relaxed in his grip. Sora looks stunned, mouth hanging open like it’s the first time he’s ever heard Riku speak at all. Lea doesn’t know what his chest is doing; it feels sharp. His Keyblade trembles in his hand.

“Gosh, Riku,” The King hops in place, too much energy in that little mouse body, “You’re already helping me teach Kairi! Are you sure you can teach Lea too?”

Riku nods, makes a small noise of confirmation, “Kairi’s pretty skilled already. Besides, you’re a Keyblade Master too and you know a lot more than me. Help Kairi, she’s a fast learner.” He pushes his hair out of his face and his eyes are sharp, “I know…what it’s like to be stuck with—to only have one thing to turn to. And to want to move past that, to get stronger.”

Ah.

Lea gets it.

There’s a little bit more discussion, figuring out plans, putting things together. Lea doesn’t really listen, he’s thinking. Thinking about the look on Riku’s face and the sounds in his voice.

He’s pretty sure Riku knows what he’s really thinking, in some way or another.


	12. War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson

It’s a little unclear how it started. If asked, everyone involved gives a different answer. The King puts his hands up and says he doesn’t know a thing about it. Yen Sid only shakes his head slowly, like it is some dark, regretful stain on his great history.

The first evidence that something has started is during training.

It’s magic training and Sora’s being a show off and bouncing from one spell to another in spectacular fashion. Kairi has gotten Blizzard and Aero down pat but she’s struggling with Fire and has only gotten pathetic coughs of spark and woodsmoke. Lea, on the other hand, is juggling fireballs like nobody’s business (no pun intended) and is ignoring all other requests to try a Blizzard spell. Riku is trying to reign in the chaos but it’s difficult for one submissive Keyblade Master to try and wrangle Sora let alone two other energetic Keybearers.

Sora is spiraling around on the spot, pulling cartwheels and summersaults, wreathing himself in flames and lightning as he goes. Riku’s eyes narrow, he spins his Keyblade against the back of his hand, and points the tip at the floor by Sora. A muttered word and ice coats the floor in a steady stream.

Sora, in the middle of another spiraling, showy move, catches his foot on it. He slips, flails in the air, and slams into the floor with a wild yelp.

The room goes quiet. Everyone is staring at Sora.

Then Lea makes that strangled noise through his nose that says he’s trying not to laugh.

Kairi does laugh.

Sora turns his head slowly and gives Riku a glare that swears revenge.

Riku only returns it with a smile that dares him to try.

***

Sora’s revenge schemes never work, for several reasons. His heart is too big and he only ever uses deadly force when he’s pissed beyond all reason. So his paybacks are things like whoopee cushions on favorite chairs or water buckets on doors and no one gets hurt and most people see it coming from a mile away.

Except Sora has gotten rather clever of late and he’s being sneaky and he has magic now.

But he still somehow manages to lock the wrong bedroom door in the middle of the night and Lea wakes the entire Tower up with his shrieks of rage early the next morning.

Lea gets a new bedroom because his is full of burned up things and Sora sheepishly avoids him for the rest of the day.

***

Lea gets Sora back by somehow adding the hottest spice he can find to Sora’s dinner. Sora runs screaming from the room, tears streaking down his face, red and flustered and sweating with the heat. Lea is howling with laughter, shaking so hard he tips his chair over and crashes to the floor. He’s laughing too hard to pick himself up.

Kairi is clearly caught between being annoyed with Lea and being amused at Sora’s reaction. She looks to Riku for an answer to this emotional dilemma. Riku has his face almost in his dinner because his head is ducked so low from trying not to laugh.

***

Kairi gets Lea back for Sora by filling Lea’s boots with whipped cream.

Sora finally manages to get Riku back by finding his friend’s stash of dark chocolate truffles (which Riku loves) and replacing them with chocolate covered cherries (which Riku hates).

Riku takes all the chocolate covered cherries and stuffs them down the back of Sora’s shirt during training.

Lea raids Kairi’s bedroom. When Sora and Riku find out, Sora swears vengeance for Kairi’s panties and Riku goes so red it looks like he’s had some of Lea’s hot spice. Kairi chases Lea around during training, shooting ice at him and trying to hit him with her Keyblade—she almost manages because Lea is laughing too hard to breathe properly while running. Sora and Riku gang up on him but Riku is too embarrassed to properly form words and Kairi keeps trying to cover Sora’s mouth every time he yells at Lea to “release the panties”.

King Mickey gives up at some point and leaves the room. Yen Sid just stands there trying to understand what is happening.

Later that night, Riku comes stumbling out of his room suffering under another bout of red faced embarrassment and choking on air because Lea has managed to drape Kairi’s stolen panties all over the Keyblade Master’s bedroom.

The next day, all three of them gang up on Lea and pin him down to tie ribbons and put hair clips in his fire red locks. Kairi even manages to get some makeup on his face before Lea wrestles away from them and bolts from the room. Sora chases after him, shouting heroic words of vengeance and brandishing a fistful of neon colored scrunchies. Riku slinks out of the room and Kairi assumes he’s going after Sora and Lea.

It’s only later that she finds out that he’d snuck into Lea’s room and taken all his pants. Lea showing up to training, strutting into the room in his boxers like there’s nothing wrong, sends them all into fits of laughter.

***

The cycle continues.

Sora gets Riku back for the cherries down his shirt by using Blizzard spells to make Riku’s hot shower freezing cold instead.

Lea gets all three of them back by locking them out of all the bathrooms in the Tower.

Kairi purposefully bleaches all of Lea’s scarves when they go through the laundry.

Riku glues Sora’s pants to the seat of the dinner chair, forcing him to wriggle out of them in order to get away.

Sora lays in wait and trips both Lea and Riku up with Gravity spells whenever he can.

The four of them throw pranks and tricks back and forth until they’re almost too paranoid to go anywhere without looking over their shoulders.

It comes to a head when Riku is meandering around outside the Tower, observing the psychedelic cloudscape before him with a sort of deep contemplation of the cosmos. His gaze is distant and his thoughts are even more so and he’s clearly dwelling on something very serious.

Lea notices. He observes this deep contemplation and takes advantage of it.

Riku hears him shifting through the grass and turns around to confront him.

Lea is fast though.

Very fast, when he wants to be.

Lea is right in Riku’s personal space before the boy has a chance to react.

Lea smirks.

Then he pushes Riku off the edge of the island.

***

It turns out that falling into the fever dream of clouds and stars around the Tower deposits you on the front steps of said Tower.

But only after you’ve fallen through cotton candy colors and flickers of light and nebulas from a drug addict’s dreams and forgotten which way was up and which way was down. Then you come hurtling down from the sky and, if you’re lucky, crash into the grass. If you’re not lucky, you hit the steps.

That explains several of Sora’s mysteriously appearing bruises.

“Well Lea asked what would happen so I figured I’d try it!” Sora says when Riku has stopped having a panic attack about falling for eternity, “I was pretty sure Master Yen Sid wouldn’t let anything happen to us so it didn’t hurt to try.”

“You’re an idiot.” Riku says.

The next time he sees Lea outside, he pushes him off the edge of the island and waits on the roof of the Tower with an ice cream to watch him fall past.

***

After that little incident, Yen Sid puts a stop to the tomfoolery with his firmest glare and a stern talking to about the responsibilities of a Keybearer.

The prank war stops.

A few days later, Yen Sid looks out his window to see Sora and Lea falling from the sky while Kairi shrieks encouragement at them and Riku keeps time with a stopwatch.


	13. Bitter Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s not afraid of the dark. He’s afraid of what waits for him inside it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one didn't turn out quite the way I wanted it to but I blame that on my own sleepless nights and staying up writing until 2am. The end is a bit rushed and it didn't conclude the way I wanted it to but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

After the Mark of Mastery exam, Sora can’t fall asleep

He tries, he really does. But every time he closes his eyes and starts to drift off, he remember what it felt like to sink into absolute and endless darkness and he jolts awake again. He tries every remedy he can think of to help him fall asleep. Nothing works. He can doze off for a minute or two but a true deep sleep eludes him.

And it’s starting to wear him down.

In training, he trips and stumbles through the motions of familiar moves. What once were fluid, gliding sweeps are now labored and feel blocky. His swings are too wide, his steps too small, his guard too low, his timing a fraction off. He doesn’t look like he’s been doing this for two years, he looks like an idiot. But his brain is too fried and tired to care all that much. His magic sputters useless sparks; quickly melting trickles of snow (not even ice), a cough of vague embers and smoke, the snap of a bulb bursting and a wheeze of what might have been static electricity. His Keyblade drags on the floor and he takes frequent breaks, sitting against the wall and trying to remember what the distance between his feet and head is supposed to feel like.

He knows he’s worrying everyone. So he smiles, because that’s the only thing he can think of to do. He can’t tell them what’s really going on. He cant’ tell them he’s scared of slipping away when he closes his eyes. He can’t tell them he’s afraid something might creep into his heart while he’s asleep and steal him. He can’t tell them he’s afraid to wake up and find someone else has taken his place. He can’t tell them these things because he’s Sora and he has a Keyblade and he’s a Hero of the Light.

So he smiles.

And it’s forced and he knows that they know it but he does it anyway. He pushes out some line about how he’s training too hard or he ate too much or something and they all chuckle and call him and idiot and pretend he’s not lying. He hates what he’s doing to them, lying to their faces like this, but he doesn’t want to tell them the truth. Doesn’t want to face the truth himself. 

He’s scared of the dark.

He thinks he knows a little bit of what Riku has felt this whole time.

There are times when Sora thinks about telling Riku because if anyone would understand this, it would be Riku. But, Light almighty, he can’t do it. He thinks if he tells Riku he’s scared of the dark, of falling into it again when he can’t fight back, then Riku will hide from him again. He’ll hide from Sora and he’ll blame himself for the darkness and Sora doesn’t want that. It leaves a bitter taste in his throat to think of that. So he doesn’t tell Riku.

Instead, he gives up on sleep and creeps around the tower at night. He knows Riku is awake sometimes too, prowling around, brushing the nightmares off his heels. They’ve passed each other once or twice and Sora has always pretended he’s been in the bathroom and Riku has always pretended that he’s been reading and forgotten the time and they both pretend they don’t know that both of them are struggling with the dark in their own way.

Sora discovers he can climb onto the roof of one of the towers if he tries hard enough. He starts hiding out there at night, perched on the rough, cold tiles of Yen Sid’s home, staring out into the nebulous clouds and stardust. It’s quiet, except for the occasional breeze, and it presses heavy on his ears. His mind wanders, eyes looking past the shifting colors, lack of sleep heavy in his chest. But he doesn’t know where else to go so he sits outside and watches the stars blink and the worlds turn around slowly and sometimes tries to pick out which star is his home and pretends that he can hear their dreams from across the countless stretches of time and space between them.

Sometimes he cries by himself up there, where no one can see. And he feels weak and helpless and doesn’t keep his eyes closed for long because then he can’t see the darkness coming. It’s stupid. It’s all stupid and he’s being stupid and he knows it. But he doesn’t know what to do with this. It’s not something he can physically fight against, this isn’t something he can swing his Keyblade at and destroy. 

He doesn’t know what to do. So he sits under the night sky and cries because he feels alone for the first time in years.

The King finds him like that one night. Sora’s not sure how. Of all the people to find him, it wasn’t the King he expected. But one night he’s up on the roof and this is a bad night. This is one of the really bad ones because his chest is a knot of thorns and poison bolts and every breath drives them deeper and breaks his bones. Everything inside him is covered in ice, freezing him from the inside out, and every shadow is dangerous and yet he can’t bring himself to call his Keyblade. He can’t do it, he just can’t. And remembers how it felt to have the darkness twisting around his arms, he remembers that weightless sinking sensation, the ice cold pain of it eating away at him, the tired fear that he’s never, ever, ever going to wake up again. Or if he does he won’t be the same. 

He’s so scared all he can do is cry. He pulls his legs up to his chest, wraps his arms tightly around them, buries his face in his knees, and cries.

“Sora?”

He almost falls off the roof.

Everything is blurry through tears and snot and, fuck, he’s so ashamed. He’s such a gross mess like this, such a disaster, not a hero at all, not like this. Crying on the roof like a baby, how shameful, how stupid, how pathetic. He scrubs at his face, crawling away from the tiny king, sniffling, his face red with more than just embarrassment.

“Golly, Sora, are you okay?” A hand on his arm and he can’t bring himself to look Mickey in the eye, “I didn’t mean to spook ya’, I was just usin’ the little mouse’s room and—“

Sora can’t help but let out a gummed up snort of laughter at the words and he pushes the heels of his hands so far into his eyes that it hurts but at least it holds the tears back for a while. He tries to say something but all he gets is a hoarse sounding warble of pathetic noise and he closes his mouth before anything else weak can escape. He stares at the King’s bright red slippers, spots dancing around his vision, and tries to think about what to do in a situation where a smile won’t cover up anything.

“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

The shock that Mickey knows is silly because Sora knows that they knew. But he still stares at Mickey with his mouth open and his eyes wide and tears still clinging to the corners of his vision. Then he looks away again and nods. His voice is hoarse when he speaks,

“It feels like I’m sinking when I try. I can’t close my eyes without remembering what it was like to fall like that. It’s weak and stupid and—“

“It’s not weak, Sora,” The King says firmly, “It’s all right to be afraid. What happened was…” And he falters, the firmness gone, all soft words and wide open friendliness, “I’m sorry about what happened to you. We almost…you were almost…” His voice gets quieter and he looks away first, “I was scared for you, for a while.”

“ _You_ were scared?” The words are out before he can stop them.

“‘Course I was!” Mickey cries indignantly, hands on his hips, “I was afraid I’d lost a really dear friend! And I was afraid it was my fault!”

“But…you’re a King,” Sora says stupidly, “Kings aren’t scared of anything.”

Mickey stares at him. Then he laughs. It’s one of those deep laughs that starts in the bottom of the chest and comes from the heart and ripples the air with light. Sora goes a little red like he does every time someone laughs at him and sputters out an indignant question of why.

“Because Riku said the same thing.”

And for whatever reason, that makes him feel better. Not all the way better but enough better that he doesn’t feel like crying again.

They sit and talk some more. Quiet voices, hushed by the watching lights of the worlds and weird twisting clouds and the knowledge that their friends are sleeping soundly beneath the rough roof tiles. The King tells him stories of other places, of other worlds, the same ones he may or may not have told Riku at one point. He tells Sora about the horror that had blackened Toon Town a long time ago—somewhere between Pete and his Steamboat and Disney Castle being completed—when their lights had been dimmed by murder and despair and their hopes had come in the form of a surly, alcoholic, private investigator. He explains how afraid he had been then, how useless he had been, still in the fledging stages of his training as a Keybearer and unable to help anyone at all. He tells Sora about watching the worlds fall into darkness and struggling with all his might to keep them lit. He tells Sora about how he lost three very important friends to the darkness and how he would have done anything to change what had happened. He tells Sora that he stayed up for countless nights after that, wracked with guilt and anger and it was only Yen Sid and Minnie that kept him from doing something stupid.

Sora murmurs quietly into the shadows around them, staring at his hands. He can count the scars on his skin and rub the callouses on his knuckles. He tell the King he’s still kind of scared. The King tells him that’s good, that’s okay, that maybe he needed to find that fear again. Sora doesn’t understand. They talk a little more. 

The words “too powerful” are said and Sora gets it.

He’s let it go to his head. He’s let the light go to his head, just the like darkness has to so many others. He ducks his head, ashamed.

Mickey chuckles and says he looks like Riku. Sora looks up, startled, stares at him. Then he grins. He thinks maybe he’s finally putting it together. He hugs the King and, after a startled moment, the King hugs him back. They both slide back through the window, whisper goodnight, and part.

Sora curls underneath his cold blankets and closes his eyes. Fear drags icy nails down his chest and he rolls over, taking deep breaths.

_It’s all right to be afraid._

He lets the feeling wash over him, shivers, and then watches it roll away.

_Just don’t forget._

A smile in the darkness. Sora lets out a sigh, finding the snags and tangles of left over dreams and letting them gently carry him off.

_Your heart holds the mightiest weapon of all._

Somewhere in the back of his mind (heart) he hears (feels) someone’s cruel laughter. He ignores it. It holds no strength over him.

_My friends are my power!_

Sora falls asleep. And when he wakes up, everything is fresh and new and bright. He smiles. He can feel his friends’ hearts singing along with his.

_You are never, ever alone._

 


	14. Comparison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.” ― Rose Kennedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea came from a comment left by natcat5. Thanks for the comment!

Terra has callouses on his hands—they all do, really, but Terra’s hands are rougher, bigger, and they stand out more on his darker skin. So do the scratches and old cuts on his knuckles. They’re minor things, knicks and bitty scars that could be from papercuts or the sharp side of a Keyblade during training. He has no battle wounds, per say, nothing daunting or terrifying or marring on his flesh.

It makes him feel clean on the outside. On the inside, he feels filthy, dirty, disgusting. Because of the darkness gnawing at this heart. He wishes he could get rid of it. Or that the scars it’s leaving on his heart would show on his skin.

Aqua’s skin is so fair, her scars don’t really show up. She has the same callouses, scratches, and tiny scars on her hands that Terra does but they don’t show as easily. She looks nearly flawless at times, elegant and graceful. With her Keyblade she looks dangerously beautiful. When she does get hurt, it is not with a crumpling or with a shattering like a porcelain doll. She becomes all the more fierce, a cold, icy fire that is beautiful to look at.

She is, on some level, aware of this dangerous beauty. But it’s not important to her. Her magecraft, her skill with the Keyblade, her friends; those are important. The light in her heart, that is also important. She places responsibility high upon her shoulders and does not see the shadow it casts on her back. Or on her heart.

Ventus has many, many scars. He doesn’t know where they come from, he can’t remember where he got them, but sometimes, he imagines, he can feel the sting on his skin when he got them. They are brutal and imperfect and twist his flesh in a way that unsettles him though he cannot say why. He pretends not to see them most of the time. There are great marring gashes like from claws on his back, there are thin slices as if from a blade across his arms, and all manner of scrapes and brittle white skin across the rest of his body.

The worst scar is on his chest. It is a ragged thing, like shredded paper, splintered and torn and disgusting to behold. Terra and Aqua have sad looks in their eyes when they see that scar so Ven hides it under shirt and jackets and doesn’t let them see it. He doesn’t like to look at it either. It looks as if something burst out from inside him, tearing its way out of his chest—his heart?—and clawing out of his body. He shudders at the thought. Looking at it makes his heart ache and a cold feeling settle in his stomach.

He ignores his scars and pretends they aren’t there because he doesn’t want to be different. He doesn’t want Aqua or Terra to give him those sad looks anymore (especially Terra, Light Almighty but he can’t stand when it’s _Terra_ giving him those sad looks). So covers them up and he puts on a smile and he doesn’t look at himself in the mirror anymore. He’s not scared, he tells himself, he’s not scared of some stupid scars, some dumb marks on his skin, he’s not scared, that’s silly.

He might be scared of what made them though.

***

Vanitas has scars.

No one will ever see them and he’s all right with that. It’s none of their business anyway.

He doesn’t need their pity or their scorn or their disgust, whichever they might try to give him if they were to see his actual skin. He doesn’t need it and he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want other people’s emotions, he has his own and most of the time they don’t even stick around long enough for him to feel them.

He doesn’t care. Really, he doesn’t.

He doesn’t care about the ragged tears in his skin that would perfectly match up to Ventus’ if they were ever stood beside each other. The other boy is broken anyway, useless, weak, and pathetic. Vanitas is strong. His scars are marks of battles fought long and hard and he’s proud of them.

But they’re no one else’s business but his so he keeps them covered.

He knows there’s another scar inside him, the worst one. It runs across his heart, a jagged tear, and sometimes its edges prickle like shards of ice cold glass and they hurt him. But he doesn’t show it because he’s strong. He might be broken but he’s not weak like Ventus, like that other boy. He takes the pain in his heart and hurls it across the worlds, ripping it from his own darkness and letting it terrorize others.

Maybe it makes the scar inside him bigger when he does that. Maybe it doesn’t.

He doesn’t know and he’s chosen not to care.

No one will ever see that scar either.

And one day, there won’t be a scar there at all.


	15. Save Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which he ceases to be them and they forget how to be themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bitch to format and I hope it looks all right one everyone's devices, whatever you may be reading from.

Sora opens his eyes and realizes

           _something’s wrong_

                                                   **something’s different**

that it’s the middle of the night and he’s wide awake as if he hasn’t been asleep at all. His bedroom is dark, washed in the faint silver-blue of the quarter moon filtering through his thin curtains. The house is quiet, the rest of the world is asleep, except for the sounds of waves and the rustle of palm fronds. Sora rolls beneath his tangled blankets and

           _my arms feel weird_

                                                   **my arms?**

makes a small noise of distress. There’s a disconnect between his thoughts and the rest of his body. Nothing seems to be sticking, movement is sluggish and jerky. His fingers feel blunt and his knees are semi-solid mud slides that make his legs wobble when he tries to get out of bed. He figures maybe he’s just overheated and he needs something to drink, or maybe he ate too many sweets after dinner and it’s all coming back to haunt him.

He stumbles out of bed, trips over his own feet which aren’t working like they’re supposed to, and bumps into his door. His skin prickles, feels tight, his muscles loose, his bones are liquid. He presses his hand against the door

           _scratches from swinging his sword inside when he wasn’t supposed to, dents from kicking it, familiar loops and swirls and_

                                                       **smooth wood, worn from fingers, whorls catching on scratches, cold against skin that’s too hot, where’s the way out**

and fumbles for the handle. Blunt and useless fingers stumble over it, catch it, twist. He falls out into the hall and his elbows skid on the floor, limbs tangling in a confused heap. For a minute he simply lays there, stunned by how long his body feels. Long and compressed and stretched thin. Like a noodle. He

           _giggles, noodle, Riku called him a noodle once when they were kids_

                                                     **the floor, it’s solid, I feel heavy**

                                                                 **I**

                                                                             **feel**

drags his arms underneath him and pushes himself up. Slowly, ever so slowly, like he’s dragging his body up and up and up through molasses. He feels prickly and very far away from everything all at once. And he

they

           _what’s happening, I feel_

                                                       **I feel**

           _I’m_

                                                       **breath in my lungs**

           _feel sick_

                                                       **wait stop I’m**

                                                                  **I am**

                                                                             **we are**

           _we are_

There’s a name on the tip of their tongue but it stings like acid so they swallow and he tries to forget even as he wants to remember.

They think they hear a train through the sound of the ocean waves.

The phone, he thinks, the phone. Help. Call for help. Something isn’t right. I’m me. I’m me!

_“My heart belongs to me!”_

Words he’s never said.

They make it back into his room with some effort, limbs slipping and sliding, bending and melting like rubber in heat. The phone screen is too bright (mother got it because she wants to know where he son is but right now he’s not even sure where he is) and his fingers fumble with it. Pressing buttons on a screen he can’t feel and their breath is hot, hot, so hot in their lungs.

_txt: herl p oij_

Phone buzzing, vibrations that go all the way down to their bones and rattle their ribcage.

_txt: sora are you ok_

Fumbles again.

_txt: smtg wring hurts we a re here herlp_

They sink closer to the floor, trying to remember how to breathe properly. His head is against the side of the bed, their legs are bent crookedly on the floor. The phone slips from their loose pudding fingers and bounces across the carpet, staring sickly light into the ceiling. It buzzes and the crown shaped charm trapped under it rattles like their bones are doing.

_txt: dont move im coming_

He closes his eyes and

                                                       **sorry sorry sorry make it stop didn’t want this**

           _still here we’re still here_

                                                       **don’t do this Sora don’t do this not for us for me for us for**

           _Riku’s here_

Riku is there, crouching in front of him, the last wisps of darkness fading from his shoulders. He’s gotten really good at that jumping through shadows thing he does. They smile lopsidedly at him but it must look awful because Riku is doing that face where he’s trying not to make any face at all so no one knows what he’s thinking. But he knows. They know. It’s probably really bad.

“Sora, what were you thinking…” Is there a hand on his chest? It might be. Sort of feels like it.

“Roxas.” He tries to say but it doesn’t sound right. It sounds like an echo.

                                                       **we are not**

           _meant to exist you are_

                                                       **not like this not**

           _please I_

                                                       **I am**

           _I feel_

                      _we feel_

                                         **_we’re hurting_**

“Sora,” Riku’s voice is a cool whisper, an edge, a sword and a shield. He might have their hands in his. There’s the whisper of a spell, “You can’t be two people at once. That’s not—the heart doesn’t work like that.”

           _but for him_

                                                       **no Sora**

“We deserve it.” He thinks he says but it scratches and it hurts and their eyes are hot with fire. Or maybe it’s tears.

“I know.” Riku says. Lights, somewhere, fluttering against the pain, gently nudging it away, “I’m sorry, Sora, I know. It’s not fair.” A pause, a heavy hesitation of worry and doubt and a tingling of fear, “I’m sorry, Roxas.”

                                                       **forgive you**

           _forgive you_

                                                       **I understand I forgive you**

           _had to try_

                                                       **let go**

           _no_

“Sora.” Riku again. Voice firm. Hands tight around wrists. Turquoise hard on blue, “Let. Go. Let him go. You’re just hurting yourself. Let him go.”

           _but I promised_

                                                    **we’ll find a way I feel**

 

                                                                  **I know you**

 

                                                                            **I**

 

                                                                                        **heard a train**

 

                                         **my**

 

                                                                  **summer is**

 

                                                                                                   **I think I’m**

 

                                                                             **the sunset**

 

                                                       **I am**

 

                                                                                                                                    **I was**

 

           _sorry Roxas_


	16. Sora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not knowing is okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first of a series of short character studies that all tie together in the first person style. I am posting them all at once because they're all supposed to go together so the next three chapters will be similar to this one.

Hi! My name is Sora and I’m a Keybearer!

Only, I guess I’m not really. I mean, I kind of am, but I don’t think I’m supposed to be, not really. The Keyblade didn’t choose me, at least not at first, I think. Someone else was supposed to have it. My best friend was supposed to have it. He…got lost. He couldn’t take it where he went. So it came to me instead.

And I’m okay with that! I’m not, like, bitter or anything about being second choice, you know. I think maybe it was supposed to happen that way. And even if it wasn’t, I don’t care that I wasn’t chosen. I don’t care that the Keyblade didn’t pick me. I’m part of something much bigger than that, I’m part of the people it did choose!

That’s more important to me than what kind of weapon I’m wielding.

Not that I’m dissing the Keyblade! It’s really cool! I can do all these things I could never do with a wooden sword and I can use magic and unlock doors and stuff! It’s an amazing—

Weapon?

Tool?

What do you call a Keyblade? Is it a weapon? It doesn’t feel right to call it a weapon. It feels like it’s more than that but also like. Like it’s above that. Like, it’s more than a weapon and it’s also not really a weapon at the same time. It’s difficult to explain. Kinda like how a heart is more than just your feelings and stuff, I guess.

But I’m okay with that. Not knowing is okay. Not knowing can be fun! It’s like a mystery! And maybe we’ll find the answers and maybe we won’t and that’s okay too! Because I’ve got my friends and they have me! And as long as we have each other, is it really so important what makes a heart or where a Keyblade comes from? I don’t think so. It doesn’t matter who’s a Keybearer or a Keyblade Master or not-really-a-Keybearer because we have each other.

Our hearts are connected and we’re all the stronger because of it. Even the people who we can’t see anymore, the people who are far away, they’re connected to our hearts too. And one day, we’ll see them again.

I’m sure of it.

 


	17. Riku

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think they know I'm afraid.

My name is Riku and. I guess I’m a Keyblade Master.

…it’s kind of weird to say that out loud and mean it seriously. I tease Sora about it all the time—sometimes Kairi too—but I don’t say it seriously a lot. Given everything that’s happened, how I acted, what I did; it’s hard to believe I deserve this.

Don’t tell Sora I said that.

He’ll get all sappy at me and grab my face and do that thing he does where he smiles a lot and laughs because he’s hurt somewhere. Because I hurt him. 

I don’t want to hurt people anymore.

At least, not the people I care about.

Sometimes I want to punch Lea in the face but that’s different. Lea’s an ass.

But. He’s an ass in a nice way.

That doesn’t make much sense…

A lot of this doesn’t make much sense. We were away from home for two years (it feels like longer) and everyone has just. Accepted us again. I kind of wish they wouldn’t. Sometimes I want them to yell, or scream, or get mad. Sometimes I want them to be angry and hate me, or avoid me, or be scared of me. Because sometimes when we’re home, on the islands, it doesn’t feel real and I almost hate that it doesn’t feel real. I’m afraid I’m going to wake up and find out I’m still a selfish brat and I’m still hurting people.

I think they know. The other two. I think they know I’m afraid.

But I don’t say anything and they don’t say anything and somehow a lot of stuff gets said without any of us speaking about it at all.

I think that’s what happens when your heart is connected to someone you care about a lot. Your hearts talk to each other without you even knowing.

And that’s all right.

Because of all the people in all the worlds for my heart to be connected to, I’m glad it’s them.


	18. Kairi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'd chase after them.

Hello, my name is Kairi and I’m…a lot of things.

I’m a Princess of Heart, but I’m also an actual princess, and I’m a Keybearer now too. 

Keybearer-in-training.

I’m also Not-Going-To-Get-Left-Behind-Again.

See, a lot of things.

I think I worry too much sometimes. Not as much as Riku, I mean, look at his hair! Don’t tell him I made that joke he’ll get that Look on his face that says he’s not impressed but he’s totally laughing on the inside and it makes me want to punch him. With my Keyblade. In his face.

Don’t get me wrong, I love him and Sora both. But by god are they a handful. Riku doesn’t even _say_ that much, he hardly seems to take up any space despite how tall he’s gotten. But put him in the same room as Sora and I’m not really sure what happens. A small corner of the universe explodes as it reaches maximum capacity for ridiculous, testosterone behavior, I think.

It’s worse if Lea is with them. Stuff is usually set on fire somehow if Lea is with them.

I think Master Yen Sid and the King try really, really hard to keep them separated.

I think I like it better when they’re all in the same room so I can see them all.

Even Lea and he’s still kind of a jerk.

I guess there’s still a small part of me that’s afraid they’re going to disappear again.

But you know what, even if they did leave, I’d chase after them. And when I caught up, I’d give them an earful.

We’re all going to explore the worlds together one day. When this is all over, when peace has returned, when the light and the dark are back where they belong in equal balance. When this is finished, we’ll all go together and explore every star we can reach.

And if we get lost or scared, it won’t be for long. Because our hearts are connected. We’ll always find our way home. We’ll always find our way back to each other.

No matter what.

All worlds share the same sky. And as long as we’re all looking at the sky, we’ll always be connected.


	19. Lea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No excuse not to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uploaded four in a row today, so if you missed them go back and read because they're all thematically tied together.

Name’s Lea and I’m Somebody.

Got it memorized?

I’ve got a Keyblade too. Sometimes. It doesn’t always come when I call. We’re working on our relationship.

Mostly I’ve got fire.

It was one thing I was always really good at, playing with fire. All kinds of fire; metaphorical and otherwise. A friend of mine used to say if I wasn’t careful I was going to get burned. I didn’t think I would because, hey, I was me. There’s no one alive who knows fire better than me.

But, lo and behold, the arrogant child was burned and lost his heart and became Nobody.

Karma’s a bitch.

At least I’m Somebody again. I’ve got my heart. I’ve got my flames. And now I’ve got my Keyblade when it pleases the damn thing to get in my hand. They keep telling me I’m thinking about it too hard. That I just have to let my heart call out to it like I let my fire call out to my chakrams.

Kind of a mean thing to say to a guy who hasn’t had a heart for—

A while.

But I keep trying. Someone’s got to. And I’m Someone again so, really, I’ve got no excuse. Plus, the Keyblade so. Doubly no excuse.

No excuse not to try.

No excuse not to fix things.

No excuse not to set things right.

I don’t know a lot about having a heart or what it means to wield a Keyblade. But I know that hearts make connections and I know those bonds are strong and I know they’re important. The thing I have to wonder is:

Since I lost my heart, did I keep the connections I once had? And since I got it back, do the connections I made when I was an empty shell still exist?


	20. Two Halves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a legend of the Keyblade War…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks, sorry I haven't posted anything in a million years. I got a full time job and it's working me to the bone so getting online is harder than ever. I'll try to post things when I can and thanks for reading!

Here’s the thing about the light.

                                                       Here’s the thing about the darkness.

 

It’s part of a set, half of

something greater.

                                                       It’s one half of a whole.

Where there is light, there must

also be darkness. Light casts

shadows. So it has been so it

must always be.

                                                        With the darkness comes the light.

                                                        It will always exist where light casts

                                                        a shadow on the world. And on the

                                                        heart.

A strong light casts dark

shadows on the heart.

                                                       But that’s all right.

Because the darkness

                                                       is just a part

of the light. It is neither

good

                                                     nor is it bad. It simply is. What makes

                                                     something good or bad is not what it is

but rather who wields it. A

sword isn’t evil for cutting

down a person but

                                                    it is a heavy burden and it makes it easy

                                                    to hurt people. Just like the darkness.

Just like the light.

                                                    Anyone can be overwhelmed by either.

Good

                                                  and bad

light

                                                 and darkness.

These things

                                                 are not

the same.

                                                  A being of light can do hurtful, bad things

a being of darkness can

heal and help and be kind.

                                                   We are

all

                                           the

       same and

                                  one day

we

                      will

                                          be

               whole again      

      we

                will

                          be

we

                       will

        forge

                               the

key

and then

                                              all the Worlds will be

                                              whole again

and we will be

                                             one

           and there will be peace


	21. Apologize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it is harder to tell the truth than to accept it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one that’s probably not entirely canon but another one that wouldn’t leave me alone. It also went in the complete opposite direction than I intended but oh well.

Riku has a black eye and burns on his arms when they see him at breakfast. He won’t let anyone heal them.

Lea is nowhere to be seen.

Lea doesn’t come back for several days.

When he does, he won’t look at Riku or Sora. He’s unusually quiet, a bitter, stagnant, angry quiet that is almost scary with its intensity. Kairi tries to talk to him but he brushes her off. He’s hurt, somehow, and it’s breaking his heart. He’s angry and it’s burning him up from the inside out.

“Riku, what happened?” Sora asks and Riku can’t look at him. Won’t look at him. It’s not unusual, there are a lot of times Riku won’t look at anyone, whether out of shame or guilt or embarrassment.

“I told him the truth.” Riku says. He keeps his back to Sora because if he looks at him it will all come rushing back and he doesn’t know if he can handle it just yet.

“The truth?”

“About Roxas.”

“Oh.”

There’s silence after that.

***

Days earlier, Riku finds Lea after training and asks to talk. There’s something stiff and uncomfortable about the set of his shoulders but Lea shrugs and says sure, okay, my room or yours?

Riku doesn’t even roll his eyes at the joke. One passage of darkness later (and Lea still has that old cloak though he loathes to wear it), they’re on the beach of Destiny Island. It’s deep in the darkest pit of the night here, the stars are bright, the island empty and peaceful. Lea’s suddenly uncomfortable and he isn’t sure why.

“I need to tell you something.” Riku’s fists are clenched and he’s looking at a point of Lea’s shoulder. But when Lea turns to face him, Riku looks at the sand.

“If you’re gonna confess your love for me, sorry, but you’re not my type.”

“Lea—!” A bit back anger, not even a blush. This must be serious. Riku shuffles in the sand, tries to look at Lea again, focuses on a point of his hair instead, “It’s about Roxas.”

Lea’s listening. His back is snapped straight like there’s a steel rod down his spine, his fingertips are numb, and there’s a weird sensation of foreboding that makes his gut feel cold. Something about Riku’s voice is wrong.

“I thought about this a long time,” Riku is saying and for some reason, Lea doesn’t want to hear. But at the same time he does, “And you deserve to know. Sora…Sora knows.” A weak bitter laughter trembles past Riku’s lips, “Fu—I mean, S-Sora _remembers_ , how unfair is that. But you don’t know. And you should. It’s only right. So I’m telling you now,” He meets Lea’s gaze, taking a deep breath, apologies and fear and old hurt burning in his gaze, and says,

“That night Roxas left the Organization…I was there. I ambushed him. I captured him. I brought him to DiZ. I helped to erase Roxas’ memories. I did all of it. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt him and I’m sorry I hurt you. I just wanted Sora back and I didn’t care who I hurt. I’m sorry, Lea. I’m sorry.”

Lea thinks maybe his heart is on fire.

Anger is too little a word, rage is a pathetic imitation.

He’s furious. He’s on fire. He’s so filled with hatred that his Keyblade is in his hand before he knows that he’s called it. Riku’s eyes are wide and he’s already raising his hand but Lea is already moving. His skin is on fire, his blood is burning, his eyes are hot, everything about him is taunt and anger and hurt and hatred.

He’s never hated anyone like this, not anyone, not a single being in his entire existence has made him this angry. And he’s had a lot of be angry about. Betrayal, loss, friends gone, memories tampered with, stinging injuries—all of that was nothing compared to this.

Lea lashes out harder and faster than he’s ever done in training. His Keyblade is wild and sharp and it’s as angry as he is, trailing sparks and spitting fire of its own accord. Riku is stumbling, there are words tripping out of his mouth, and he’s not even trying to hit Lea back. It’s like he thinks he deserves this.

Well he does.

The little shit deserves every blow Lea lands, every burn that sears his skin, every scrape and cut and bruise.

Lea slams his Keyblade into Riku’s face and it sends the boy spinning, crashing into the sand and rolling into the surf. When he goes to stand, Lea kicks him down again, knocking Way to Dawn away and pointing his own Keyblade at the Master’s chest. Riku looks up at him and there’s nothing on his face. But there’s plenty in his eyes. Apologies and pity and understanding and Lea hates him for it.

Lea tries to say something but his voice chokes and there are tears on his face and when the hell did he start crying. His hand is shaking and it makes his Keyblade waver over Riku’s heart.

They stare at each other for a long time.

Then Lea turns and walks away. His Keyblade is tight in his hand and he doesn’t look back.

Riku lays in the surf, watching him go until he vanishes into the night. When he finally gets to his feet, he ducks his head under the cold judgement of the stars overhead and limps back to the Tower. He’s ashamed and beaten and hurt in more ways than one.

But he figures he deserves even a small fraction of pain in return for all that he’s caused in the first place.

***

“Sorry I beat the the shit out of you.”

Riku looks up and then looks up some more because even though he’s tall, Lea is _freakish_ levels of tall and is currently standing over him with his hands in his pockets, trying to act casual and not fooling anyone. Riku is sitting on the edge of the island where the Mysterious Tower is, feet dangling out over the psychedelic clouds, and he is acutely aware of the fact that Lea could simply push him over the edge and who knows where he’d end up.

“It’s all right,” Riku says, looking away to stare at the dreamscape around them, “I deserved it.”

“You deserve a lot more than—“ Lea bites the heated words off, takes a deep breath, “Look, I’m still all kinds of pissed off at you for what you did. But I’ve lost too many friends to this fucking war, this stupid light versus dark thing, and I don’t want to lose anymore. So I’m sorry.”

There’s a part of Riku that’s surprised at being considered a friend by Lea but he just nods, “All right. Thanks. I’m sorry too.”

“Truce?” Lea asks and when Riku looks around at him, Lea is holding his hand out. Riku stares at it, “Look, come on, just—truce, please? If I see Sora giving me those kicked puppy eyes one more time, I’m gonna hurl. So, truce?”

Riku smiles a little and gets to his feet. He grasps Lea’s hand, giving it a firm shake, “Truce. At least until we figure out how to get Roxas back. Then the two of you can gang up on me; he owes me a beatdown too.”

“He sure as hell does.” 

 


	22. Maturity in the Face of Adversity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're teenagers, for Light's sake...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one was written on a whim inspired by the glorious ramflega's post http://ramflega.tumblr.com/post/121054698659/baby-teenager-cant-cuss-in-front-of-adults-he

It’s Goofy’s idea to start the Swear Jar (“Gawrsh, I used to have a teenager and this worked on him!”) and all of them chuckle about it because, really, what’s that going to do?

But then Riku drops the F-Bomb in the middle of training when he lands wrong coming out of a move and Goofy’s suddenly in his face with that pleasant smile of his, holding the big glass mason jar out like a begger. Riku sheepishly deposits the allotted one hundred money into the Jar, his ears bright red, and doesn’t look at anyone the rest of the day.

Still, no one seriously thinks that anyone’s going to uphold the Swear Jar.

Yen Sid keeps the monstrous thing on his desk like a warning. Like that skull with the candle on it. A subtle sort of threat. Goofy sometimes carries it around. The Keybearers (Mickey aside) pretend it doesn’t exist.

“What about Lea?” Kairi asks one day and the red head bristles instantly, “Does _he_ have to pay the Swear Jar too?”

“Yeah!” Sora adds. In the background, Lea raises his Keyblade menacingly, “Lea’s not a teenager! He’s a—“ A pause, Sora withdraws a little, frowning, “He’s, uh…Hey Lea!” Lea drops his Keyblade as Sora spins around to face him, “How old are you anyway?”

“I’m—“ Lea stops, snapping his mouth shut. His shoulders settle as he tilts his head, thinking about it.

He’s…well, he honestly doesn’t know where his age falls anymore but he’s definitely older than the other three. He tries to think about how old he was when _they_ had grabbed _them_ and _it_ had happened but it leaves such a searing pain in his heart to remember that he decides it doesn’t matter.

“None of your business,” He says aloud, smirking as he raises his chin, “But I’m definitely older than you. Respect your elders.”

“Not likely.” Riku says quietly from under his hair.

“He should pay the Swear Jar.” Kairi says with authority she really has no right to have.

“Yeah, he’s in training too!” Sora bounces on his toes, using his Keyblade to point at Lea as though no one in the room can see the towering figure with bright red hair, “He should have to pay! He swears more than Riku!”

“Whoa, hey! I’m an adult!” Lea argues.

“In training!” Sora shouts.

“I’m a Keybearer in training,” Lea snarks back, hands on his hips, “Not an adult in training. That’s you.”

“Lea should also pay for being mean to me,” Sora says to Lea’s face.

“I’ll show you mean, kid. I’ll show you mean until you’re—“

“Lea will pay the Swear Jar as well.” Yen Sid says and Lea’s words sputter into nonsensical noises and flustered frustration.

“Wha—no way—are you serious!? I don’t even have that much munny!” Lea cries (adventuring is a very lucrative business but Lea left all his munny in his other black cloak which regrettably did not survive his rebellion), “That’s such bull—“ He catches Yen Sid’s eyebrow rising with an epic and practiced slowness to an impressive and judging height, “—buulllllaaaa—bunk! That’s bunk!”

“Ten munny for almost swearing.” Riku murmurs and Kairi snorts into her hand. 

“I heard that!” Lea’s impressive hearing is diminished by the impressive crack in his voice as he shrieks the words.

“I believe we were practicing our Zero Gravity spells, were we not?” Yen Sid says with all the smoothness and authority of someone who has dealt with such shenanigans before and will never tolerate them under his roof again.

Everyone drops their current arguments because during training Yen Sid’s word is law. But they keep shooting side looks at Lea and if Sora’s shorts catch on fire it’s definitely by accident.

 


	23. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Noble deeds and hot baths are the best cures for depression.” - Dodie Smith

Sora is laying on the couch without his pants on, his tank top wrinkled and bunched up to expose his belly like he’s too tired to bother taking it all the way off. His arm is thrown over his face, the occasional sleepy murmur whispering as he breathes out in his sleep. He’s dozed off after training but that’s nothing unusual. It was a long, hard day and he deserves the break he’s having.

In the window seat on the other side of the room, Riku is stretched across an explosion of pillows with his nose in a book. He’s tired from training too but he also doesn’t want to ruin his sleeping schedule. But to anyone who knows him, he’s clearly in his relaxation stage, evident by his baggy t-shirt and his ragged shorts and his bare feet. His silver hair is still damp from his shower and looks gray in the light through the window.

The door to the Rec Room (so dubbed by the young Keybearers because it’s full of comfortable furniture, bookshelves, and Sora is fighting to get a TV in it) is pushed open and a mop of red hair pokes its way into the room. Lea’s spikes are tied back in a messy ponytail but some of them refuse to be tamed and spring up into his face again anyway. He looks a little ridiculous but the one time Sora said that to his face, Lea tripped him down the stairs.

“Hey, steamed broccoli or green beans?” Lea’s in charge of dinner tonight. It was Mickey’s idea, to teach them how to take care of themselves and each other. Sora’s evenings are usually noodles of some kind.

“Broccoli.” Riku says without looking up from his book, “No cheese.”

“Yeah, yeah, no cheese, I know,” Lea waves his hand in the air, “I’ll put it in another bowl so those of us _with taste_ can have some.”

Riku does look up at that, his eyes narrowed. Lea smirks and shuts the door. Riku frowns at the closed door and then goes back to his book. Sora rolls over on the couch and the arm that was over his face droops over the edge of the couch, fingers twitching like an itch. There’s a flicker of something against his palm and Riku glances over the top of the book. But then Sora relaxes and Riku’s gaze drops to the pages again.

A peaceful silence reigns for a while. Riku turns a page. Sora nearly rolls onto the floor and then flops back in the other direction again.

The Rec Room door opens again and Kairi saunters in, fresh from her shower. She’s also apparently forgone pants and is simply wearing an oversized t-shirt that reaches nearly to her knees. Riku looks up as she walks in and then quickly back down again. His ears are red and he hefts his book in front of his face so no one can see him.

Kairi giggles knowing _exactly_ why he’s doing what he’s doing and plops down on the couch by Sora’s legs. The movement doesn’t wake him but he does murmur something under his breath. Kairi prods his cheek and he frowns, fingers twitching again. She pokes him once more. His arm drags in a lazy arc through the air to flop beside his head as if he’s swatting at her.

“Push him off the couch. That’ll wake him.” Riku has apparently recovered enough to form words.

“Riku, don’t be mean!” Kairi snaps at him but she’s smiling as she reaches down and shakes Sora’s shoulder. His head lolls against the the cushions and he mutters about more sleep for heroic deeds but doesn’t wake up.

Lea sticks his head in the room again, sweeps his gaze around, and settles for staring at the ceiling and pretending he hasn’t seen more of Kairi’s legs than he really wants to, “When you three are done flirting, dinner’s ready.”

Sora rockets up so fast he almost tips Kairi off the couch, “Dinner!?”

Riku starts laughing and Kairi tries her best not to but soon she’s laughing too and Lea is just leaning against the doorframe, grinning like he’s in on something secret. Sora looks around at them, baffled and not a little embarrassed. Kairi pushes Sora off the couch and Riku sets his book down, still chuckling. As they all clasp hands with every intention of going down to dinner together, Lea blocks the doorway with his tall frame and says,

“No pants, no dinner.”

Riku starts laughing again and Kairi punches him in the arm.


	24. Rooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the lovely comments! Sorry I can't post more but work's keeping me busy. Here's a little one to tide you over for a while! Now featuring Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories! *tosses confetti*

This is not Traverse Town.

The man in the black coat told him so and Sora knows this now for certain. This is not Traverse Town. It’s disconnected, it’s disjointed, it’s broken, it’s…

It’s all wrong.

Sora knows Traverse Town intimately. He had returned there many a time during their first adventure, to restock and explore and reach places he couldn’t before he learned new abilities. He had crawled through every inch of that town. He knows it like the back of his hand, knows it almost as well as he knows his island.

This is not Traverse Town.

He thought maybe when he held that first card up to the first door that beyond it would be the rest of the First District. Or maybe the Second District. But it wasn’t. It was some strange, cobbled together version of the Third District. The room—and it was a room, he couldn’t deny it was just a room now—was squarish and fill of lights and there were banners dangling from the walls with the big 3 printed on them. But the walls were wrong. Sometimes there were walls and sometimes it was as if the ground had simply been cut away and plunged into darkness. There was a barrier between him and that darkness and Sora is grateful for that much at least. He is also, in some strange way, grateful for the ceiling(?) that is a blanket of stars against a night sky. Because stars are comforting and warm and familiar, even if they aren’t real.

The more rooms he opens, the more cobbled together and disjointed “Traverse Town” becomes. He finds he can backtrack and change rooms and that confuses things even more. He does not know this Traverse Town. This is not how Traverse Town should be. And no one seems to notice it. This Traverse Town looks as if someone has—

Oh.

_“I sampled your memories. And from them, I created this.”_

This is not quite the Traverse Town from his memories. This is a Traverse Town stitched together with quickly sampled pieces of his memories. This is a Traverse Town made from textures and colors, not a map or a layout. Sore is building this Traverse Town himself.

He finds this power both thrilling and terrifying.

Because he can build this Traverse Town anyway he likes.

But he also knows that this is not the real Traverse Town.

So, with each new room he unlocks, with each new piece laid on the board, he firmly reminds himself of that. And tells himself that he will not fall into a trap of false memories.

 


	25. Terra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regret drowns me here.

My name is…

I think it’s…

Terra.

Yes. My name is Terra and I…I’m not sure what I am anymore.

I guess I’m still a Keybearer; though I’m not sure if I still have my Keyblade. I’m not even sure I still have my own heart. At least I still have my name.

I was once named a Keyblade Master but that was by someone who tricked me into the darkness. I’m not sure that title still applies to me anymore. I don’t think much applies to me at all anymore. I don’t have a body of my own. I don’t even know where my heart it. I’m lost. I’m lost in the darkness and it’s all my fault.

I don’t know where my friends are. I don’t know what happened to them. I lost everything that day in the Graveyard.

I’ve done terrible things.

Somehow I know that not everything I’ve done is awful, but the only things I can seem to remember here are the bad things. Sometimes I can’t even remember their names. Maybe I don’t deserve to. I did this. If I had not been so arrogant, if I had just listened to the Master, things might have been different.

Regret drowns me here. Wherever here is. I’m not always aware in this…place. Not always sure this is a place at all. Existence is questionable. I am not always myself, I think. This…this non-existence is difficult to put into words.

Words are meaningless here.

The words I really want to say, that I should have said in the Graveyard that day, are important.

And one day I will tell them…

I will…

And then we can be friends again.


	26. Aqua

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I am lost.

Hello, my name is Aqua and I am the Last Keyblade Master of The Land of Departure.

And I am lost.

I’ve been avoiding using that word. Lost. It’s such a sad word, so heavy and cold and hopeless. And in this place, hope is an important thing to have. And I still have it, I definitely still have hope. But I am also most definitely lost. 

The Realm of Darkness is vast and deep. And dark, of course. It’s very dark. And full of monsters. Monsters made out of darkness that attack me whenever they can. It’s frightening here, but I am strong. I will continue to be strong, if not for myself then for my friends.

I will find my way out of here for my friends too.

But for now I am lost in the darkness.

And I think I am beginning to understand what Terra had been fighting against.

There is some regret in my heart for the words I said to him before that last terrible battle. Being surrounded by this darkness, trapped in it, trying to find a way out, I know now what it’s like to feel it pressing against you at all times. Terra was afraid of this and instead of helping him, I pointed out everything he was doing wrong. I should have respected his fear.

I should have listened to Ventus when he said I was letting the power of the Keyblade go to my head. He was right. They were both right. And I have wronged them.

I hope my actions made up for what I have done. I tried. But perhaps in trying, I made everything worse.

But I have to stay strong. For Terra. For Ventus.

I know we’ll see each other again someday.

And then we will fix what was broken.


	27. Ventus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I forget that I'm me.

My name is sometimes hard to remember.

I am sleeping.

I think I have been asleep a long time but time is hard to keep track of. I sleep. And I dream. And I am bathed in light and warmth and love. Sometimes there is fear and there is hopelessness and sometimes there is sorrow and pain. But mostly there is boundless joy and optimism here.

He is full of it and he keeps me safe in it, even if he does not know I am here.

It’s probably better he doesn’t remember. He’s got enough to do on his own.

I gave him my Keyblade. I whispered to his heart and told him how to use it. He protects people. And he does it with such a passionate fierceness. He reminds me of—

But I don’t like to think about that.

Sometimes I don’t think. Sometimes it’s hard to. Sometimes I forget that I’m me and become us instead and I think that’s a bad thing. I think I should wake up soon. This dream is slippery; memories and thoughts are smoke that are half formed and blow away as easily as they come into being. I can never fully grasp them. I am afraid that even in the warmth of his heart, I will lose myself if I don’t wake up soon.

I don’t know where I’ll go when I wake up.

I don’t know if I can wake up.

I don’t know what will happen when I do.

The light casts a deep shadow here. It goes down, down, down, down, bottomless in its intensity. I think there’s something else sleeping down there in the darkness. It comes out from time to time, swallowing him whole so his eyes are yellow and his fingers have claws. I try to help him when that happens, try to keep him from forgetting who he is and falling too far into the darkness. 

I wonder if the darkness will wake up with me.

I wonder if _he_ will wake up with me.

Oh.

That’s right.

I remembered my name this time.

Hello, my name is Ventus.

And I want to wake up.


	28. Vanitas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just need to get out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple update today! If you missed the first four then go back and read them, these are tied together.

I was named Vanitas.

I am his darkness.

And I am still here.

I won’t disappear. I won’t, I won’t, I won’t. He’s still me and I am still him. We are one and the same! He’s sleeping up there in the light, safe and warm and dreaming. I can taste his dreams sometimes. They’re sweet and bitter at the same time.

I hate them.

I hate _him_.

My dreams don’t matter, not to anyone. I never mattered to anyone. Only to the Master. And even then, he considered me nothing more than a tool. I am not a tool. I am so much more than that. I am _me_! And I want to _exist_!

The Master said my only purpose was to forge the Blade. But what if I don’t want that anymore? What if I want to be me? Why does _he_ get to be me? If he gets to be me, then what do I get?

I am hiding in the darkness cast by the light he sleeps in. I slept for a long time too. I was hurt and it was his fault. I’m angry. And I’m scared. I want to get out. I keep trying, every time this heart opens wide to let the light pour out, I surge up on a wave of darkness. But every time the light blocks my way and I fall. Sometimes the darkness slips through and for a while this heart is wild and fierce and untamed. Then the light pushes it all away and it goes quiet again.

But I have been watching. I can see because I am awake. I’m not lost in some stupid dream-state like him. I’m awake and I’m getting stronger and I want to get out. I know I can exist. Outside of this heart, I can make my own place. There is a boy out there with darkness inside him and no one runs from that boy, no one calls that boy an empty creature, no one treats that boy like a tool. That boy has a Keyblade, he has the Title. If that boy can exist than so can I.

I just need to get out.

They called me Vanitas.

They called me an empty creature.

But how can I be empty when I am so full of this desperate wish to be me?


	29. Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War comes with a price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clear up any confusion the chapter title may cause this is NOT the ending of these shots. I have plenty more waiting in the wings. *salutes* Enjoy the feels!

Xion won’t come back.

No matter what they try or how hard they try it, they can’t bring her back. And now that she is remembered, the hole it leaves in their hearts is a whistling void of sharp pain they don’t like to touch lest it sting all the more.

A lot of people aren’t coming back.

Saix—Isa—will never come back. He was lost a long time ago. Lea still cries when his former friend falls under his Keyblade and no one can comfort him. He seems a little more hollow, more Nobody now than he ever was when he didn’t have a heart.

Terra almost didn’t make it back. It was a very close thing. They pulled and pulled and pulled with all their might to retrieve his heart from the darkness and then they had to carefully, delicately stitch him back together again. For the longest time he is weak and sleeps a lot and Ventus wonders if this is how the others felt when he was asleep for so very, very long.

Master Eraqus does not come back. His Keyblade is the Blade of the Land of Departure and it has passed to Aqua to bear. She is the new Master. The old Master will not return. Ventus, Aqua, and Terra all grieve for him because no matter what happened that day, he had trained them and cared for them and now they have lost him. He was a father. Now he is no more.

Xehanort, Braig, Dilan, Even, Ienzo, and the rest of the Organization do not get their hearts returned as Lea has. They are lost now, some of them in darkness, some of them to the peacefulness of their passing. Roxas feels sorrow because some of them were his friends no matter how they treated him and once they were like a family even if he didn’t know what that meant at the time.

A lot of things aren’t coming back either.

Relationships that once made since are now scattered and need to be reassembled when not all the pieces are there and they don’t necessarily fit together. Ties are frayed, greetings awkward, much that once was is no more. People have changed.

Sora’s parents aren’t sure what to do with him anymore. He’s not the same boy that vanished the night of the storm. Oh, he is still brilliance and sunlight and laughter but he also casts a very long shadow now. He has scars no boy his age should have, there is something in his eyes that tells people not to ask him where he was, and he jumps at shadows. He will not spar with Tidus or Wakka anymore, no matter how much they beg. He always brushes them off with a laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

At first glance, Kairi seems as if she hasn’t changed at all. But sometimes she appears to have a little flutter of panic when she cannot immediately see Sora or Riku. And there is a new fierceness about her, as if her bite now has the teeth it needed for people to take her seriously. She is still kind and loving, very much so, but she is also harder and stronger than she ever had been.

Riku is hardly ever home anymore. His bond with his parents had been strenuous at best before, but now it is almost completely gone. They don’t understand—or won’t understand—what he has been through and he cannot find the words to tell them. He is quiet and submissive, an echo of his former prideful self, and he clings to his friends with the intensity of his gaze and his soft touches. He is brittle and fractured, his scars as numerous and as brutal as Sora’s. He does not like his home anymore. It does not feel like home.

Lea cannot repair what he had with Roxas. He is not Axel and Roxas is not the same Roxas. They have to start over and it is bitter and it is hard and often they become frustrated with each other because their memories tell them one thing but their hearts tell them another and they’re not sure which to follow. But when Lea cries because Isa has fallen and will never rise again, it’s Roxas who helps him up and it’s Roxas who comforts him.

Vanitas leaves when he awakens and he does not come back for a long time. No one knows where he went or what he was doing. But when he returns, he stakes a claim in a room in the Land of Departure and no one sends him away. His ties were different than theirs and he has lost them all. It will take effort but he might be able to build new ones.

A lot of things do not come back after the war.

And it hurts and there are a lot of tears. There are a lot of feet trying to find their path again, a lot of people trying to figure out what they are supposed to do now. There is a lot of worry, a lot of fear, a lot of hesitating and not wanting to go home because home doesn’t quite make sense anymore.

But there is also a lot of hands holding onto one another. Because they have all been through this together and they understand each other. And no matter what the future holds now, they will be there for each other.


	30. Holes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What is it with you and picking up stray puppies?”

Lea keeps an eye on everyone whether they know it or not.

It’s not that he likes spying on people, he just wants to make sure they’re not going anywhere. He’s had too many people ditch him, leave him, forget him, betray him not to be wary. He means well, in the long run.

He figures Riku probably knows what he’s up to. If anyone can figure him out, it’s Riku. Lea’s beginning to realize they have a little more in common than he thought. Lea didn’t think he had anything in common with any of these kids, Keyblade aside. He feels set apart from them, even when Sora makes a huge effort to include him in group activities.

Sometimes, when Sora doesn’t think Lea can see, he gets this look on his face like he’s remembering what happened in the Betwixt and Between. It’s not pity but it makes Lea uncomfortable anyway.

He doesn’t know what to do with Kairi.

She seems to treat him the same way she treats Riku and Sora but Lea isn’t so sure. He knows she still remembers what he did. He thinks that sometimes she knows what Axel wanted to do to Sora. 

Whatever their true feelings are towards him, Lea watches out for them anyway.

They’re just stupid kids with too much responsibility on their shoulders. A Keyblade, Lea is starting to realize, is a very heavy burden.

So he keeps an eye on them, lingers around the rooms they’re in, makes snarky comments if they catch him lounging. He often naps in the Rec Room where they like to hang out, dozing off to their whispers and Sora’s frantically hushed giggling. There are times he wakes up from these naps and the room is empty and he tells himself he doesn’t feel a small thrill of panic as he wonders where the trio has gotten off to. Sometimes one of them makes an effort to find him; usually it’s Sora, shouting down the halls of the Tower at the top of his lungs and laughing when Lea tells him to shut up because they both know he doesn’t really mean it.

And sometimes, if he catches sight of all three of them sitting together somewhere and laughing, he feels like he’s forgotten something terribly important.

But for the life of him, he can’t remember what it is and it makes his heart ache like it’s being torn from his chest all over again.

 


	31. Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Everyone is a moon and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.” - Mark Twain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good golly, it's been a while since I updated this hasn't it? Sorry, I kind of ran out of steam for a while and I've been really, really busy with work and personal shit.  
> This shot here isn't one of my best ones and I'm not particularly fond of the way it turned out but it was another one that crawled into my head and wouldn't get out. Enjoy!

Sora is showing off again.

He does this a lot in training, especially when Lea has been needling him as he tends to do. Sora gets a little high on his horse and rubs it in Lea’s face that _his_ Keyblade comes when he calls it _and_ he can look incredibly awesome while he uses it.

Today is a bad day for Lea. He woke up late, looks like he hasn’t slept at all, and his Keyblade is being more stubborn than usual, refusing to come to him no matter how often he flicks his wrist and calls to it. He grits his teeth and stomps his foot and snarls insults at Sora who clearly isn’t taking the hint. Clearly isn’t taking it at all because Sora is showing off more and more with every snap from Lea.

When Lea calls him slow (not in so little words, the insult actually lightens his pockets into the Swear Jar), Sora plants his feet, thrusts his chest out, and snaps, “My Drive Forms move faster than you, fireball!”

“Sora, I don’t think—“ Mickey begins.

Sora thrusts his arms out wide, mimicking what he’s doing with his heart. Goofy and Donald aren’t there today but Sora has a couple Drive Forms he can access on his own. Light erupts from his body, an orb of it that sends ripples through the air and sends Lea skidding back on his heels. Everyone is squinting as the light wreathes Sora’s body, his heart pouring it out and sucking it in at the same time, connecting with the hearts of others and—

Abruptly it shifts.

There is a sour flux in the air and darkness bursts out of the core of light. It sucks greedily at the brilliance around it, wrapping around it, consuming it. In seconds, Sora is smothered in shadows and Kairi lets out a scream, making to run for him, to help. Riku grabs her arm and hauls her back with such force that she stumbles and nearly falls.

The darkness settles and where Sora once stood proudly is now…

Not-Quite-Sora.

He is a beast, nearly a Heartless, with glowing yellow eyes and skittering claws. He is black, every inch of him coated in darkness, and it peels and drifts around his form in ribbons, ebbing and flowing with his movements. He is never still, shifting from foot to foot, dropping onto all fours and then shuffling back into a hunched position on two feet. He bobs and sways on the spot, eyeing the rest of the room with curious wariness, head cocked, just watching in silence.

“Holy shit.” Lea says. No one tries to make him pay the Swear Jar.

“Oh my god,” Kairi breathes, eyes wide, “Is that…really Sora? What happened!? Is he okay!?”

“It’s just the darkness in his heart,” Riku says and he says it in a way that’s supposed to be calm but there’s a quiver at the end of his words and his frame is so taunt that he looks as if he’s about to snap into pieces, “It—it’s still Sora. It’s still Sora. Right, Your Majesty?”

“I thought this would happen…” Mickey murmurs, looking a little forlorn as he watches Not-Quite-Sora pad around in a circle on all fours, still completely silent, yellow eyes never leaving them, “Donald and Goofy said that sometimes if Sora used his Drive Forms a lot, he would become a dark monster. Anti-Sora, they called him. I guess this is what they were talking about.” He gesturea with his Keyblade.

Anti-Sora instantly is instantly on the offensive. He hisses, a sensation more than a sound, and backs up against the wall. Darkness froths around him, reacting to his aggression, bursting in clouds instead of smooth ribbons. Lea takes a few steps back.

“Keyblades!” Kairi realizes, and hers is gone in a flurry of light and petals made of stardust. Riku follows suit immediately, fingers twitching over the last burst of darkness and black comets. Mickey drops his Keyblade (golden sparkles and silver sparks) and, after a moment of hesitation, Lea does the same (flickering flames and burst of heat).

Anti-Sora watches them carefully. Then, slowly, he eases out of his aggressive stance. He slinks towards them in a roundabout way, edging around the group but never taking his eyes off them. It’s as if he recognizes them but isn’t sure how he does so. The others watch him just as warily, tension and wariness in every line of their bodies.

Finally, Riku says, “Sora.” And steps forward. He moves away from the others, towards the dark shadow of his friend, and crouches down to be at his level, “Sora.”

The black creature cocks his head and then bounds forward. Riku stiffens but doesn’t flinch as Anti-Sora rolls around him, his movements liquid darkness and smooth as glass. Ribbons of shadows curl from Anti-Sora’s body and caress Riku’s skin and they are soft and cool, not threatening or biting at all.

“Sora,” Riku says again, watching his friend skitter to a halt in front of him, “Sora, do you know what’s going on right now?”

**_!!!!! hello!!! hello!!!!!_ **

Riku nearly falls over in shock. It’s not so much words he’s hearing but feelings translated by his heart into words. Anti-Sora’s darkness is _speaking with his darkness_. Riku stares at him and Anti-Sora stares back.

“Riku?” Mickey asks, “Is everything okay?”

“I, uh,” The Keyblade Master shakes himself, “Yeah. Yeah, it’s just—I can hear him. Hang on. Sora. Sora, look at me.” Yellow eyes that had traveled to Mickey when the King had spoken, snap back to Riku, “Sora, do you know who we are?”

**_yes!!!!_** Anti-Sora all but shouts. It seems he’s just as excited to have someone communicate with him as Riku was to discover he could communicate at all, **_yes yesyesyesyesyes!!! shadow-silver-soul_** **_love_** He circles Riku again, makes a sensation-sound in the air like a purr, and then bounds over to Kairi, circling her as well, **_light light light lightlightlightlightlight!!!! light-stars-soul love_**

King Mickey is **_little-lord-love_** and Lea is **_spark-bite-love_** and apparently Anti-Sora’s definition of “love” is anyone he considers his friend. He paces around each of them, making a sensation-sound that’s almost like laughter, ribbons of darkness curling into spirals of amusement, when Lea stumbles away from this sudden display of affection. When Yen Sid comes in to find out why the training room is suddenly so quiet, Anti-Sora leaps around him in a fantastic acrobatic display shouting, **_wizard-guide-master!!! wizard-guide-master!!! hello!!!!!!!_**

Riku does his best to translate.

“He speaks with you?” Yen Sid asks, scrutinizing Anti-Sora as the shadow creature slips under a bench, vanishes, and then reappears in the shadows between a shelf and a wall.

“Sort of,” Riku’s brow is furrowed, his arms crossed as he watches his friend too, “It’s more of a…a feeling. In my heart. Feelings put roughly into words. It’s difficult to explain.” Yen Sid nods as if he understands.

“He seems weirdly docile for being smothered in darkness,” Lea points out, hands on his hips, one eyebrow raised in amusement at Anti-Sora’s antics, “More like a puppy than anything else. Is that normal?”

“Gosh, but, Goofy and Donald always described him as…vicious.” Mickey says hesitantly, “But he doesn’t seem too violent too me…”

“How long is he going to stay like this?” Kairi asks the question they’re all thinking but too scared to ask.

“His Drive Forms have a limit on them,” Yen Sid explains in that lecturing tone of voice, “To lessen the strain on his body. This one should run out as well. Sora’s heart is too full of light for it to be lost in the darkness for long.”

“And, hey, Dark Rescue is here if you need any help gettin’ him out of it.” Lea smirks, jerking a thumb at his own chest. Riku rolls his eyes and Kairi giggles.

“I do wonder, however…” Yen Sid strokes his beard, frowning, “Everyone step back. I am going to try an experiment.”

Sharing a glance, the four Keybearers back up against the wall, leaving Anti-Sora alone in the middle of the training room. He tilts his head curiously and starts towards them with that loping, rolling gait of his. His progress is brought to an abrupt halt by a dark portal appearing in the air and a Soldier Heartless appearing, it’s limbs twitching erratically.

Anti-Sora hisses in rage, clouds of darkness erupting from his body like a volcano. Against the wall, Riku winces and puts a hand to his temple ( ** _dark!!!! dark dark darkdarkdarkdark!!! dirty dark bad rotten destroy!!!! kill kill KILL KILLKILLKILLKILLKILL!!!!!!_** ). The shadow of Sora launches at the Soldier without hesitation, tearing at it with claws and battering at it with fists. The Soldier fights back, swiping at Anti-Sora with needle sharp talons. They catch him in the side, sending him skidding across the floor, but Anti-Sora leaps right back up again, rolling with the blow and bouncing off his hands to aim a kick right at the Soldier’s middle. His own claws rake across the Soldier’s helmet, looking for a handhold. They find one, dig in, and rip it apart.

There’s a burt of dark energy, the spiral of a heart fading away, and then all is quiet. The furious sensation-sounds Anti-Sora have been making cease almost instantly. But he is far from quiet.

**_mine mine mine mine!!!!! mine my soul-love my love my shadow-silver-soul my light-stars-soul mine mine mine!!! kill the dark kill kill kill!!!_ **

“Sora, Sora, stop it’s okay,” Riku wheezes, still cringing under the pressure of Anti-Sora’s anger, “Sora, please, calm down!”

“Sora!” Kairi abandons her place by the wall and hurries over to him. She drops to her knees, hesitates for the barest breath of a second, and then puts her arms around him, pulling his head into her chest, “Sora, stop. You need to calm down. We’re okay. You’re hurting Riku. Please calm down.”

**_shadow-silver-soul? hurt hurt no no nononononono!_ **

**tired slow down can’t breathe**

**_shadow-silver-soul hurt hurt!!!!!_ **

**riku’s hurt?**

“Sora!” Riku gasps and when the others look at him, “It’s…I can hear two voices almost. I’m not sure how to describe this. One is definitely the darkness but the other sounds more like Sora.”

“It must be his Drive Form running out!” Mickey says, looking back Anti-Sora who is still leaning heavily against Kairi, “Maybe he’ll change back soon.”

“Good, I hope he does because he’s kind of weirding me out a little bit.” Lea says stiffly. He’s the only one who hasn’t moved away from the wall, “Who knew the kid had this much darkness sitting inside him.”

Yen Sid opens his mouth to say something. Then he closes it. Riku gets the feeling that whatever the Master was going to say, he wouldn’t have liked it.

**how? how is he hurt? what?**

**_dark dark bite tear angry!!!! hurt kill kill!!!_ **

**no hang on, I’m tired, stop, stop, stop, can’t breathe can’t** —

There’s a surge of darkness, a burst of light, and Sora—regular, human, not-dark Sora—is laying in Kairi’s lap, looking a little startled and a little frightened. He blinks at the ceiling a moment and then gasps, pulling away sharply, and falling back onto the floor. His eyes are wide and panicked, a nervous energy making his frame quiver. His fingertips twitch across the floor as if they want to grip something.

“Sora, you’re back!” Kairi says with a smile and Sora won’t meet her gaze. He’s looking hard at Riku who is looking hard back at him.

They are definitely going to need to sit down and talk about this later.


	32. Don't Forget the Way to Get Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can't keep a straight face and say this is not the end." - Relient K

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost didn't post this one, for various reasons. But I’m putting it here anyway. I have a deep fear of what could happen at the end of KH3. I’m afraid it’s going to be more than the end of the Xehanort arc. I'm afraid it's going to be more than the end of Xehanort.

They cannot stop Xehanort.

Even with the limits of time travel, even with all their knowledge, even with all their strength and magic, they cannot stop him or his vessels. Oh, they can take out one or two of his vessels, slow his progress, get in his way. But they cannot stop him.

Worlds fall.

Darkness spreads.

Some of the Warriors of Light fade.

There are no bodies to put in the graves for what darkness destroys, it eradicates completely. But the well worn shield and the backhand wielded Keyblade are markers enough and cause them all much grief.

This war is changing them. And slowly, it is breaking them.

Aqua finds Sora sitting alone one day. Which in of itself is unusual because these days Sora is never, ever alone. He is hunched on the edge of the cliff in the Land of Departure, one of the last remaining worlds standing against the spreading darkness, curled in on himself. His fingers are woven together and clenched tightly in his lap, his head tilted down, looking into the depths of the canyon below. He is unusually still.

She approaches him and Sora looks up when he hears her boots crunching in the rock behind him. Aqua crouches down beside him and puts a light hand on his shoulder,

“You mustn’t give up hope, Sora.”

He blinks at her and then the dark expression on his face is splintered by one of his wild grins.

“Give up? Ha!” Sora kicks his feet into the empty space below him, leaning back on his hands, “I learned a long time ago that I’m stronger than that!”

Aqua smiles back at him because Sora’s smiles are addictive and it’s difficult not to smile around him. But there’s something…she can’t put her finger on it but it’s like a slight discord that makes her skin prickle. She thinks there’s something wrong but she doesn’t know what and she doesn’t want to lose this warm smile. So she pushes it aside and doesn’t think about it.

****

Later, when they find out what was going out, it’s too late to stop it.

Sora baits and sneers and taunts until he draws Xehanort out. They meet in the Keyblade Graveyard, Keyblades drawn and ready. Words are exchanged but no one is around to hear them.

The others race to aid him because no Keybearer should do battle in the Graveyard, especially the opposing forces of Light and Darkness. But, as with all stories, they are too late to stop what Sora has begun. They can only stand at a distance and watch the struggle.

Two Keyblades are clashing on the battlefield. Darkness pitched heavily against Light. Sora is giving it all he’s got and it’s still not enough. Xehanort is just too powerful. Sora will fall and his Keyblade will join the countless others that are left dead and rusting on this desolate battlefield.

And then it happens.

No one watching is sure what it is but they think that Sora caused it. At least later, when they whisper to one another, they’d like to believe it was Sora. Because Sora’s heart is so big and his love for his friends so strong, he would and can do anything to protect what he cares about, even at the cost of himself.

And that is precisely what he does.

There is light, so much light. Sheets of radiance pour from the battle, stretching and rippling through the air. Then there is a bang with no sound and everything goes white. When the dust settles, when the sky clears, when the sparks have faded from their vision, they see what has been wrought. 

A great pillar of white crystal and silver arcs towards the heavens in the center of the Keyblade Graveyard. It is shimmering and iridescent, trickling with hints of the deepest violet and the brightest sky blue, a beautiful and haunting thing for to look upon it fills one with a sense of despair, as if something has been lost that was once too great to speak of.

Kairi cries so hard she falls to her knees because she knows without a doubt that Sora is in there. He is in that crystal with that monster Xehanort and there is no way to get him out. He has trapped himself in a prison of his own heart, outside of time and space, eternally locked away from everything he knew and loved so he could spare watching it fall into darkness. Kairi cries because, for the first time, he has gone where she cannot follow.

The others try what they can to break the crystal open, to extract only Sora, to do anything to get their friend back. But Sora’s heart is strong and it will not allow them in. He has brought this destiny upon himself, by his own choices.

“Selfish idiot.” Lea says and his voice cracks and he stomps away before anyone can see his face.

The deep sense of loss that permeates the Warriors of Light is unbearable. They cannot stand to be together in their pain but nor can they stand to live with it alone. They are in mourning because even though the worlds are now safe, it cost them a great deal to make it so. It is, as they have learned, the price of war.

Riku, of all of them, cannot stay. He gathers his things and when they try to stop him, he won’t look them in the eye, 

“I’m not going to let him get away with taking another nap when there’s work to do.”

Those are the last words anyone hears Riku say for a very long time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was going to be more to this, mostly about Riku going off on his own to try and find a way to save Sora and the others trailing after him, not really sure what to do with themselves. Kairi's mad because both boys have pretty much ditched her again, Mickey keeps running off to find Riku and try and help Sora, Lea doesn't want to be a Keybearer anymore, Aqua can only go back to the Land of Departure, and Terra is just a broken mess. It was a whole slew of feels and distress that I couldn't bring myself to write.  
> So I'm kind of torn here because while self-sacrifice is very much in character for Sora and would probably save everyone else and make a great impact for the end of KH 3, I don't think I could physically handle it. I'm scared what kind of ending we're going to get guys. I don't think I'll ever be ready.


	33. Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're never really closed.

Sora shouts, “Don’t shut the door!” and it comes out in a rush, all one word, breathy and full of panic.

Riku freezes, one hand on the hallway door, halfway to closing it. Sora is halfway out of the bed, wild and panicked and white. Kairi is leaning over him, hand on his shoulder, not quite understanding. She wasn’t there, not then, she doesn’t really know what this means even though they’ve both told her their stories a hundred times.

“Don’t shut it.” Sora breathes icy fear into the room.

Riku lets go of the door handle.

***

Sora keeps opening doors.

He’s always been curious, always sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. It’s one of the things that made him agree with Riku about building the raft, about leaving home. But this isn’t curiosity.

It’s almost neurotic, an obsession with having every door he passes open because if they aren’t then he panics. Not quite panics. It’s a short breath, a faltering of steps, a twitching of fingers. The way he turns his head to eye the offending barrier of a closed door, the blue glare through his bangs. To Sora, a closed door is a wicked thing and it has no right to be closed at all.

He opens doors all over the Tower. He opens the doors in his house on Destiny Island. He leaves them standing open, sometimes all the way and sometimes just a crack. He doesn’t like walking past Riku’s room and finding the door firmly shut but the bitterness of that is outweighed by Riku’s snap and cold bite of darkness and the echo of a shout for space. Kairi has learned to keep her door open just a crack, just enough to pacify Sora. She has also learned to ignore the flash of blue eye peering through said crack as if to make sure it’s still there.

***

He wants to stop, sometimes.

This thing he has with doors is a problem and he knows it is. But the sight of a closed Door gives Sora chills.

Doors mean a lot of things.

A door slamming open in the middle of a storm, of a cascade of wind and darkness.

A tall white door easing close and whispered words and a promise unspoken and leaving, leaving, leaving him behind in the dark, oh, how it aches.

Endless doors in endless halls from dreams buried deep in his mind, all coated in white and lies.

Doors opening, doors closing, slamming in the night. Hinges creaking. Clicks of handles turning. The tumbling of locks undoing, the snicker-snack of locks sealing tight.

These things make his fingers twitch and the flicker of a handle press against his palm.

***

Lea slams the door in his face and Sora’s angry.

But he’s also crying.

There’s a taste like sweetness and ocean salt in the back of his mouth.

He goes and sits on the roof of the Tower and wonders where the sunset is.

***

Yen Sid tells him to shut the door and Sora stiffens.

But this is his Master and so he swallows the cold pit of fear in his throat and slowly pulls the door closed. The sound of the door clicking is louder than it should be in his ears and he flinches at it. This is getting out of hand. He knows it is and Yen Sid knows it is and that’s why they’re having this meeting in the old Master’s study.

Nightmares of closing doors, nightmares of nightmares. Fears of white rooms. Fears of sleeping, of things shutting, of things ending, of shadows too deep. If a door is open then there is nothing hiding behind it, waiting to pounce on him. If a Door is open, he can see his friends and the Door won’t disappear and he won’t be cut off from them again.

All of these things show on his face.

***

Sora says, “Close the door.”

Riku has already backed away from the door, pauses mid-step, “…really?”

“Please.”

“All right…” Whisper of hinges turning. Click, snap of the handle. A shuffle in the semi-darkness. Riku leans against the closed door, watching carefully.

Kairi leans against Sora, “You okay with this?”

“Yeah,” The creak of bedsprings, Sora shifting his weight. Something that might be a smile, tight and still troubled, but warmer, “I know I can always open them again.”

Another smile, brighter in the dark than it ever is in the light, half-hidden under strands of silver.

 


	34. Spite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hatred is an awful burden to bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost didn't post this one either. Things have been. Very rough at home lately. Very stressful. Trying not to let it get in the way of stuff but it's very hard. Sorry to be such a downer. Uh. Yeah, I guess if I don't update in a long time it's because things went downhill really fast. I'll try to keep to my once a week schedule though.
> 
> Thanks for all the support, guys, I love seeing your comments and feedback. It seriously makes me day, I can't tell you how happy it makes me to see you all leaving comments and kudos and bookmarks, etc. You're all the best, seriously, all of you. Thank you so much and I'll try to keep these lovely bits coming!

Roxas calls Riku a shitbag and that’s kind of when the others start to realize that maybe Roxas kind of hates Riku.

They didn’t see it at first because Riku is very, very good at sneaking away from things he doesn’t want to deal with and he actively avoids Roxas a lot of the time. Everyone is still adjusting to the sudden influx of Keybearers so they’re not paying much attention to the finer details of the life around them.

So the first time they catch Roxas calling Riku a shitbag, Sora makes Roxas pay the Swear Jar and then apologize to Riku. Roxas snarls out a word that might be “sorry” but either way it has no apology in it whatsoever and his angry glare is just more affirmation that he would rather be pummeling Riku’s face in than talking to it.

Later, he does pummel it.

No one is around to see what instigates it but when Kairi goes out into the training yard of the Land of Departure, she finds the two of them wrestling on the ground. Wrestling might be putting it mildly. Roxas and Riku are throwing punches, kicking, biting, snarling like animals. There are flashes of spells not fully focused—sputtering sparks and weak fizzes of electricity—and the glimmers of Keyblades trying to form but unable to as their owners need both their fists to protect themselves.

Kairi screams wordlessly at the pair of them and charges, Keyblade in the air. She tackles them both, knocking them apart, and puts her weapon between them before they can start fighting again.

“What the hell is wrong with you two!?” She shouts.

Roxas has a bloody nose and a split lip and his chest is heaving with emotion as well as exertion. Riku is doing that stiff, cold glaring thing he does when he’s too pissed off to form words; he has scratches on his face from Roxas’ fingernails, a black eye that’s starting to form, and a bite mark on his upper arm. Roxas fights dirty.

“What _is wrong with you_!?” Kairi shouts again, looking between them, equal parts anger and hurt and distress, “Why are you fighting each other!?”

Roxas only hisses angry steam out between his clenched teeth, fists shaking at his sides. He looks ready to lunge at Riku and wrap his hands around his throat. Riku, on the other hand, is the picture of cold, collected calm. But Kairi knows him better than that and she can see his temper burning icy fires in his eyes, the set of his shoulders challenging and furious, his stance ready for attack. They are furious with each other, that much is clear. But who was angry first is the real question.

“What’s going on!?” Sora. He’s come charging out of the castle with his Keyblade ready and he has his serious face on because he knows something’s wrong. He’s trailing Ventus behind him and Kairi’s sort of (guiltily) glad it’s not one of the older Keybearers.

“Roxas and Riku were fighting,” Kairi says, still standing between them, still with her Keyblade raised, “And I don’t know why.”

“You were fighting…?” Sora looks hurt. A part of himself and his best friend were at each other’s throats and he can’t understand why. Sora doesn’t understand hatred and anger and aggression the same way other people do; he’s too optimistic, too willing to see the good in others, to hate.

“It’s _his fault_.” Roxas spits the words out, his expression contorted in fury, “And I’ve tried to forgive him! I TRIED!” The word cracks. Sora flinches with his body, Riku flinches with his eyes, and Roxas rears up to scream,

“HE’S THE REASON I LOST EVERYTHING! IT’S HIS FAULT!”

Everything suddenly makes sense.

Roxas’ foul language that’s directed only at Riku. The tension whenever the two are in the same room. The bitter looks shot across distances when Riku is training Lea. Roxas’ anger isn’t just his usual moodiness; he hates Riku.

Because Riku was the one who trapped Roxas, brought him to DiZ, rewrote his memories, and sent him back to Sora. And even though Roxas accepted that he belonged in Sora’s heart (for the time being) and that Sora needed him to be whole, even though Roxas actually _likes_ and _respects_ Sora and treats him as a friend. He cannot forgive Riku for tricking him into losing everything.

He and Lea are similar in that regard. Although Lea has put aside his anger as he has realized it will get him nowhere and it is a bitter thing to hold in his heart. And he is oh so very careful with his heart these days.

“Roxas,” Ventus says carefully, stepping around Sora who is still looking lost by this whole spectacle, “I know how you must feel—“

“No you don’t!” Roxas is too angry to think about what he’s saying, snarling around Kairi to throw his angry words in Riku’s face, “Don’t you fucking say that to me! You don’t know anything!”

“Don’t I!?” Ventus cries and it’s not a shout but it’s a desperate plea for Roxas to understand, “You think you’re the only one here who’s lost things? You think you’re the only one who watched everything they love get ripped away from them!? _All_ of us have been hurt, Roxas!” He drops his voice, hands half raised, placating, pleading, “We’ve all been hurt somehow, we’ve all lost things. But we’ve moved past those things, we’ve put them aside, because if we hold onto them they will only fester in our hearts and eat us from the inside out.”

Roxas is still spitting poison anger and hatred and he’s still looking at Riku with the intent to rip his face off. Sora glances fearfully between Roxas, Riku, and Ventus, wondering if he should intervene. Kairi just stands there quietly, looking hard at Roxas who is still ignoring her.

“Roxas,” Ventus says quietly, “Let it go. Don’t…don’t hang on to this. Hate just begets more hate and it’s just. An endless circle. Don’t do that. Don’t hurt yourself like that.”

Roxas seethes. He struggles. Then he ducks his head and looks away. Riku’s shoulders relax and his fingers uncurl from their tight fists but he doesn’t turn away from Roxas.

“I need to be alone.” Roxas croaks and he runs before anyone can say anything else to him. Sora makes to follow but Ventus catches his arm and shakes his head. Sometimes space is the best healer.

Later, days later, Roxas is sitting with Riku and, surprisingly, Vanitas on the cliffs around the castle. They’re throwing stones into the canyon below and listening to the sounds echoing back up to them, muttering to one another. Vanitas cracks the thinest smile known to man and Roxas chuckles weakly, like he’s forgotten how to do it.

It’s not much but it’s something.


	35. Alarm Clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not like it's some big secret, Lea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one based on one of ramflega's beautiful drawings (this one is also based on a vine). http://ramflega.tumblr.com/post/127538090464/lea-would-absolutely-do-this
> 
> Also there will be a DOUBLE UPDATE today because. Just because. I feel like it.

Everyone knows that Sora, Riku, and Kairi often spend the night together, in one bed or another. But when they do share a bed, it’s often a guessing game about which bed they’re in. This generally leads to everyone getting a later start than usual as they try to figure out which room they’re in and then get all three of them up (because Riku, while usually the early riser, will sleep in as late as Sora if they’re in the same room together).

Lea has turned it into a game.

He’s usually the one that has to wake the trio up anyway. But he doesn’t knock politely on a door like Goofy or Mickey, he doesn’t bang on the door and scream at it like Donald. He kicks the fucking thing open like a badass trope and barges straight in. He’s gotten very clever about using his Keyblade to unlock doors that don’t want to be opened.

If Lea finds a room he’s barged into is empty, he’ll back right out and go to one of the other two remaining rooms.

If the room Lea barges into is occupied, he is not polite about waking its inhabitants.

He has learned the sleeping habits of his fellow Keybearers and he cheerfully uses them for his own ends.

Sora tends to sprawl, taking up eighty percent of the bed from himself, so it’s usually Sora that Lea sees first. The redhead will plant himself firmly in the doorway, take a deep breath, and _yell_.

“WAKE UP SLEEPYHEAD!” echoes across the tower quite a lot these days.

It’s quickly followed by Lea’s mocking scandalous laughter as the three young Keybearers are roused. And Riku’s groggy and explicit swearing.

Lea then disappears for round about an hour because Kairi, no matter how tired she looks, will have murder in her eyes. And Light help the poor idiot who woke her if she catches him before she’s had her breakfast.


	36. Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even heroes need a break.

Sometimes they visit Twilight Town.

It’s a nice, ordinary thing to do and during those times when they’re feeling distant from the rest of humanity or lost in their own power, they’ll go hang posters or sweep up junk to remind themselves that they’re still people no matter how much responsibility sits on their shoulders.

For the longest time, Lea won’t go with them. And after the war, Roxas won’t go either. Eventually, after much coaxing and whining on Sora’s part, they tag along, sullen and wary and not sure what to expect. Roxas is almost mobbed by Hayner and the gang and there are definitely a few tears shed even though all parties will deny it if asked. Lea is stiff and quiet and the Twilight Town gang is a bit cold to him at first until Roxas actively starts including him in things. Things get pretty chummy after that and if no one can find Lea or Roxas in the Land of Departure or around Radiant Garden, their laughter can usually be heard in The Usual Spot. 

They never climb up to the top of Station clocktower.

***

It’s hardly fair but they all participate in the Struggle Tournaments. All being the younger Keybearers because the older ones are just too mature for those shenanigans (and then there’s Namine who has no real interest in fighting whatsoever). And besides, someone needs to cheer from the sidelines and if not the adults then who else. 

These Struggle matches usually devolve into clusters of friendly rivalries and no one is surprised. Sora and Riku are notorious for butting heads and they battle each other with the swiftness and laughter of old friendships woven deep. In sharp contrast, Ventus and Vanitas’ bouts are bitter, angry clashes that leave them snarling at each other. They have no fear of fighting each other now but it’s still never a pleasant thing to watch. And of course Roxas’ constant rivalry with Seifer has never ended even though their battles are hardly a contest at all. Sometimes Roxas holds back on purpose but he can never do it for long. Seifer always stomps away bitter and fuming with Hayner cat-calling foul names after him.

***

They skateboard too. It’s another way of boasting and showing off to one another. And it’s another way to fly and catch a thrill of defying gravity.

At first they were all borrowing skateboards from Hayner or the other kids around town but eventually they somehow all got their own. Sora’s is a neon surge of lightning bolts and stars and he thinks he’s something special having spent all that time jumping around Radiant Gardens and he shows off. And then Roxas shows him up on his black and white, thorny board and Sora shuts up and sulks in a corner. Riku isn’t as bold as the others on his black-blue-purple board of galaxies and bat wings, content to just glide along with his hands in his pockets with ridiculously impeccable balance, Kairi is still learning but she’s learning fast and her pastel cascade of flowers board flashes through the air as she pulls off kickflips and ollies over the pavement.

Ventus and Terra like to race and Vanitas often ends up joining them though he tends to race dirty. Green board patterned with swirls and leaf patterns, brown-gold board like an explosion from a volcano, and black and red board with the Unversed symbol scratched angrily into its paint zip along the Tram Common paths and sometimes they wipe out into each other and sometimes Vanitas cheats but it’s all in good humor. Terra tries to use his Glider and _everyone_ gangs up on him and bullies him to the ground shouting what a cheater he is. It takes all of them to do it because Terra is a mountain and he goes down as easily as cold medicine.

Aqua and Lea pretend to have no part in these childish things. But more than once Lea has been caught joining Namine as Roxas shows her how to balance on a skateboard and Aqua has snuck onto Terra’s board when she thought no one was looking.

***

Riku is particularly skilled at synthesizing and he greatly enjoys the quiet thoughtfulness involved in mixing ingredients together.

It’s not like cooking (no matter what Kairi says) because with cooking you can get it right or wrong or anywhere in between and the chances are it’s still eatable. With synthesizing, it’s either perfect or it’s dead wrong and all you get is a gooey mess that’s slowly chewing through the floorboards with an acidic hiss.

He often sits in the Moogle shop with Namine (who likes the quiet intensity with which he works) or Aqua (who is eager to learn this new skill and appreciates the effort of it) and works on whatever project he’s gotten into his head. The Moogle is more than willing to help him and Riku enjoys the crafting, the thrill of creating something that he has made with his own two hands. Sora doesn’t know how he has the patience for it and mutters how there’s a reason recipes exist. Riku quietly shoves a ring with multiple ability boosters into his hands and Sora shuts his mouth about it after that. 

***

Namine is constantly drawing. Her quiet presence is a staple of the group and she can always be found sitting somewhere in the background with her sketchbook propped on her knees and a pencil or pen in her fingers. 

Sometimes she sketches them in loose lines, capturing their quickly moving forms in swirls and shapes that blur into one another and are somehow still clear. Sometimes she draws the town in sharp, refined detail with deep shadows and glowing windows caught in the sunset. Sometimes she draws memories of things that happened and sometimes those drawings are smeared by tears and no one says anything about them.

Sometimes they pose for her and she’ll giggle and draw them and they’ll all laugh together. They like to make Terra or Riku pose because it makes them get all red and flustered.

***

Pence takes a lot of photographs. 

They start piling up in The Usual Spot and Kairi suggest doing something about it. Lea makes some sarcastic comment about how “of course the girls are going to start a scrapbooking club” and Olette politely reminds him that even though she’s not a Keybearer she can still swing a baseball bat full of nails pretty hard. 

Lea leaves them alone after that because the threat of being hit by that is more than enough to chase him off.

***

Vanitas complains about doing actual work but of all of them, he gets the most jobs. He is strangely good at the mundane and it takes everyone by surprise when they find out. He’s a favorite for hiring and if there’s competition for odd jobs, Vanitas is usually the first pick.

He gets mad when people ask if he’s Sora’s brother (Ventus and Roxas get the twin question _a lot_ and they eventually give up telling people they’re not really related) but it doesn’t stop him from doing a good job at whatever it is he’s doing. He’s efficient and finds the quickest and best way to get things done without making the end result any less than it should be. Maybe it’s his training or maybe it’s just who he is, but Vanitas is sharp and clean and keeps things in a complicated order that none of the others really understand.

He is also an amazingly good cook and no one dares ask him why he’s so good at something Ventus is absolutely awful at.

***

No one goes farther than the woods and they all steer clear of the Old Mansion. There are too many memories there and none of them are particularly good ones.

Sora goes back only once and when he returns, he says the white room isn’t a white room anymore and the path to the basement looks like it’s disappeared. Riku gets very quiet and he goes away for a while. He doesn’t tell anyone where he was when he comes back but they think they know.

Namine gives him a hug and he turns pink but pats her on the back and mutters something about someone apologizing for the wrongs they’ve done.

***

Twilight Town is a peaceful place. It’s like Destiny Island in that it is a sanctuary, a home, a place where they can just be them. These are places they can forget about being Keybearers, even for a little while, and just be themselves. They can be kids, they can be smiles, they can be laughter, they can be hands holding, they can be breathless hugs, they can be family.

They can be, if just a for a little while, normal.


	37. Rotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is about you.

He has bad days.

Of course, everyone has bad days. But his bad days are Bad Days. When they are bad, they are Very Bad.

He knows when he is having a Bad Day. He can feel it when he wakes up, slowly creeping up on him from the shadows under his bed (everything comes from the shadows). There’s a sick feeling in his stomach and something hard and lumpy forming in his throat, trying to choke him.

He tries to push it away, tries to put himself in a place that isn’t a Bad Place. He tries very, very hard. Most of the time it doesn’t work. Sometimes he is just too tired to try and fight it. Sometimes he just lets himself sink into the sticky ooze of his own Bad Place because he just can’t find the will to struggle against it. It’s too much, sometimes, too overwhelming, and drowning in the Bad Place just feels so much easier than fighting for once (he’s always fighting, always, there’s so much fighting).

The Bad Days are sporadic, infrequent, and impossible to predict. There is no pattern, no way to tell when he will wake up and feel like shit. Maybe something that happened the previous day will set him off. Maybe he will have a nightmare (he has those a lot). Maybe he will just have a Bad Day.

Maybe he’s just rotten inside.

On Bad Days, everything feels…escalated. He is hyper aware of himself, of other people, of the world around him (of the shadows).

He feels as if his skin doesn’t fit right, like it’s too slippery, like he’s sloshing around inside it. He rubs his arms, trying to push himself back into place, and wonders if his bones are melting. There’s a hollow feeling in his his chest (like he’s lost his heart), a dark and empty hole that creeps into his throat and makes him want to wretch. He checks his pulse and wonders if it’s going too fast.

The sick feeling in his stomach sometimes makes it to his head. Everything is out of place. Or maybe he’s out of place. The rest of the world is a jigsaw puzzle and he got mixed into the wrong box. He doesn’t _belong_ here.

There are judging eyes on his spine, he can feel them tracing his bones (if they’re still there).

If he puts his hands around his throat he feels (a little more stable) like his head won’t detach itself from his body in pure disgust at his existence.

On Bad Days, there are too many emotions going on for him to know what he should be feeling. It’s a raw, overwhelming tidal wave that gets tangled up in the hollow spot in his chest and in his head. It makes the thing in his throat swell until he thinks he might choke. He is angry, on Bad Days, angry at the worlds for existing, angry at himself, angry at people for their ignorance and their happiness and their entitled, self righteous, shitty attitudes. He is angry and he is also sad. Incredibly sad and he wants to cry in his frustration and his sorrow and why does this all have to _hurt so damn much_?

A lot of things have hurt (he’s hurt himself but he’s so much better at hurting others).

Even with all that, there are times he wants to pick fights. In the sticky darkness of the Bad Place he wants to shout and scream and hit and cry. He wants things to break apart under his fingers, he wants to make things (himself) bleed, he wants to watch things shatter and fall apart. A destructive knot that ties itself around his veins and boils his blood. It’s hot and it hurts and it makes the tears in his eyes burn. There are times he feels so destructive he hates everything in the universe.

Sometimes he forgets to breathe. When he remembers that he should he takes a deep breath and it’s like ice swirling into his chest, trying to clear out the garbage inside him (cant’ clear it out the garbage is him). It makes his head feel lighter. He grabs at his own skin in case he falls out of it.

He pushes his hands into his eyes until he sees stars. He pushes his hands into his eyes until he forces the tears down into the dark inside him where they belong.

Talking to his friends—talking to anyone—is hard. Sometimes it’s impossible. Sometimes, on these Bad Days, the thought of opening his mouth and speaking is just _too much_. The tears want to form at the very thought of trying to talk to someone else. Sometimes he can’t even pick up his phone to answer a text because it’s just _too hard_ (and he’s not worth it).

He’s chewed the inside of his lip raw and bloody countless times.

When he has a bad day, it’s Very Bad Day. Everything feels like it’s too much and too little at the same time. He is a hollow, broken, disjointed thing that might as well be garbage for all the good it’s done everyone. It’s not that he hates himself, but the feeling is very, very close to it. Less than human, moping and disgusting and rotten inside (rotten with shadows and darkness).

He feels like a different person on Bad Days. Like something has crawled out of the (darkness) Bad Place and pushed him aside. Or smothered him while it takes control. And when the Bad Days are gone and he looks back on them, they feel fuzzy and indistinct, disconnected, like they happened to someone else or he watched them in a film.

He thinks, maybe, he’s damaged somewhere. Maybe he’s not doing this right. Maybe he should (throw himself out) tell someone what he’s feeling.

But he can’t. He can’t find the words to explain it.

Besides, they have so many other problems to deal with, he needn’t burden them with a simple Bad Day.

He thinks they can tell, though, when he’s slipped and slid and eventually given up and fallen into the Bad Place. He thinks they can tell and he thinks they’re careful around him, careful to include him, careful to talk to him, careful to make sure he’s still there (careful to make sure he hasn’t given in to the darkness).

He loves that they care. He is grateful that they are there, even if he can’t bring himself to speak with them.

Because _someone_ is there. Someone is there and they’ll help him, they’ll be there for him. He doesn’t have to say a word, he can just take their hand and they _know_.

They make him feel important, they make him feel good about himself. With them, he is not garbage, he is not rotten, and the Bad Place’s sticky grip is weak.

He has Bad Days and they are very, very Bad Days.

But he is never alone and, eventually, the bad days (and the darkness) will pass.

 


	38. Rising Wing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He has always dreamed of flying away.

Riku can grow wings in the dreaming.

When he opens his heart to his spirits and accepts their powers into his own, they merge with his dreaming form and cause physical changes. Sometimes he grows claws of untamed energy and sometimes he is liquid shadows, his body melting away to become a formless darkness rippling through the fabric of time and space to bombard an enemy from all sides.

Those are all enjoyable skills. They flood him with strength and energy and power and he can feel the tremor of the hearts of his spirits beating along with his. And while he loves each of his spirits equally and thoroughly enjoys the strength they lend him, he cannot deny the thrill of growing a pair of wings.

Sora can glide, an ability he obtained from his Drive Forms. Riku has never flown though it was one of the things he dreamed of when he was trying to escape their island. He’d had fantasies, laying in his bed at night, about growing a pair of wings and flying away into the sky, away from the prison of his island. He’d even tried building a pair of wings at one point but that hadn’t worked out and had earned him a broken ankle and a severe scolding from his parents.

But now he has wings.

They unfurl from his back with a delicate thinness, purple-black and elegant but powerful. They are smaller than he had always pictured wings on a person would be but they are his and that is all he cares about. He hovers a good foot off the ground when he activates the Link and he does flips and acrobatics and enjoys the thrill of flight. His speed is incredible and he can dispatch Nightmares with ease now.

The Links with his Spirits don’t last forever—it’s too strenuous on the body, even a dream body. But while they do last, he takes advantage of them, not just for battle but also for thrills. His Spirits understand this and sometimes they are the ones that encourage the Link with him first.

Sometimes he sprouts his wings in places where there will be no Nightmares to do battle with and soars as high as he can.

He flies higher and higher and higher, wings pumping at his back, and reaches a hand for the stars—the worlds—overhead. He can never fly that high, it’s impossible, even in a dream. But trying feels good. Flying feels fantastic. He free falls from the tops of buildings and cliff faces, he grinds along rails and edges and flips out into the sky with the extra boost to send him higher, he runs and as he runs he lets his wings sprout and lift him into the air. He trails sparks and energy and ribbons of darkness as he spirals higher and higher, looping and flipping, dancing in the sky.

He laughs when he does these things. He laughs and he smiles and in those moments he can forget the Mark of Mastery Exam, he can forget the darkness dwelling in his heart, and he can forget the weight he burdens himself with. In those moments he can remember what it was like to run on the beaches of his island home, carefree and light and happy.

In those moments, his heart sings like it does when he is with his friends and he is more himself than he has ever been before.

 


	39. Slumber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bed time has its own challenges.

They all sleep in their own particular ways. And when they share a bed, they each have to compensate for each other’s sleeping habits.

Sora moves around a lot. Very much like when he’s awake, he is hardly ever still. He tosses and turns and rolls and flails, caught up in dreams or nightmares in the depths of his sleep. He murmurs out half remembered spells and fragments of memories and tends to cling very tightly when he finally stops moving. The other two don’t mind because this is Sora and it’s who he is and they love him for it.

Riku will only sleep with a wall at his back. Which means that most of them time he is facing the door and there is a window at his back. It’s a paranoid thing but none of them call it that and they all realize that Riku needs this to feel safe. He is very still in his sleep but his fingers twitch a lot and sometimes he mutters something under his breath. He likes to drape his arms over the other two, as if to keep them there beside him and know that they will not leave him. It’s a reassuring weight and whoever is on the end of that arm with the hand tends to play with his fingers until they all drift off to sleep.

Kairi is like the happy medium of the two. She shifts and rolls in her sleep but not as much as Sora. Once or twice she kicks when she’s having a bad dream and Riku has the bruises on his shins to prove it. But for the most part she is quiet. She likes to lean against chests and tangle legs together. She particularly likes being in the middle, between her two boys, so she can listen to both their hearts beating at the same time and know that they are there and they are all three of them together.

They rotate who gets the middle.

Most of the time the boys bully Kairi into the middle of the sandwich or one of them will flop down on the bed and whine about being too tired to move. She lets them do it most of the time because she likes being in the middle, having a hand on both of them. And because sometimes Sora and Riku try to pick at each other over top of her and that’s always good for a laugh.

When Sora is in the middle, he wants to try and look at both of them at the same time. Usually this means he’s rolling back and forth and tangling up the blankets or they both put a head on his chest and listen to him ramble. His fingers go everywhere, all over both of them, and he usually ends up falling asleep on his back with his arms trapped by his sleeping companions on either side.

Riku in the middle means they’re really just a pile of cuddles because he will pull them both in close to him and not let go. Sometimes they are so close, one of them is almost on top of him. They’re all right with that because they seem to fit perfectly snuggled into Riku’s sides and there’s something incredibly comfortable about hugging him. Sora says it’s because Riku is really just a giant teddy bear and Riku shoves him out of bed and won’t let him back in until Sora grovels and whines.

They wrestle in the bed a lot, nothing dirty, just playful tugging and pushing and shoving one another to see who is King of the Hill. Riku wins a lot. Sometimes they hide under the blankets together and giggle out stories and trade adventures like they did when they were children. Kairi and Sora start pillow fights and Riku tries to get them to stop but soon they’ve dragged him into it too and by the time they’re done they’re all breathless with laughter and exhausted and fall asleep on top of one another with pillows scattered around the room.

There are times when there is only one in the bed, or two. Sometimes they start with three and one will leave before morning. He is often scolded for ditching them but they know why he does it so they’re not too hard on him.

It is not always the same bed every night. They alternate that too. But the one thing that stays the same is that when the three of them are together for the night, it is _their_ bed. It is something they share, like their hearts, like their destinies.

Like a star shaped fruit on an island in the ocean where the sun is bright and their sweetest memories are carved into the oldest stones.


	40. A Moment's Reprieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The white is the color of its sleeping silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry it's been so long since I've posted anything. I've been going through a lot in my personal life and I just moved into a new apartment so it's been a tad crazy. Anyway, I'll try to keep stuff coming and thank you all SO MUCH for reading and leaving comments! You're all wonderful, lovely people! <3

Everything is white and it’s hard to keep his eyes closed against the lightness of the place.

But Sora is tired and he’s bruised and weary and hurt in more ways than one. So he slumps against one of the big, blocky, flower topped pedestals in the room he’s just created and breathes out a sigh of relief. 

For once it’s quiet.

The castle—Castle Oblivion—is very quiet. But Sora hasn’t spent much time in the white washed hallways, he’s got other places to be, other people to see. People to save. So he charges from one world to the next, hardly pausing to catch his breath.

Now, though, now he’s resting. Because if he doesn’t he won’t have the strength to save _her_.

But, oh, how his heart aches. It feels crumpled at the edges like torn paper, crinkled and battered and fraying. It feels as though someone is tugging on the tattered edges of it, tugging, tugging, insistent and nagging. A child pulling at his hand, someone begging him to follow. It has been a constant feeling, this dull ache in his heart, and it has grown worse the deeper he has gone. It twinges and shivers and leaves him cold and breathless. His heart feels restless and alone and it hurt, hurt, hurts.

Sora thinks it’t guilt over _her_ and _them_ and _what happened_. But he’s not sure. He’s not good at understanding stuff like that. It’s probably really just battle fatigue.

So he’s resting now. The marble is cool and soothing against his aching body and he closes his eyes, letting his head rest against the pedestal. The white leaks through his eyelids.

There are Heartless in the room behind him; he can almost imagine he can hear their claws scuttling across the polished floor. He’ll go fight them soon enough. But not now. Right now he’s tired. So very, very, very tired.

The silence presses against his ears.

He feels like he’s been here before, slumped against cold marble with his eyes closed and the white brightness all around him. And maybe he has been but he doesn’t trust his memories right now. There are static patches in his thoughts that makes his ears buzz if he thinks on them too hard.

Sora shifts his weight and he thinks he hears chains moving and the sound of a lock clicking.

There’s a name, a breath of a whisper, tickling his ears. Something he’s remembering that doesn’t feel quite right in his mind, like it doesn’t belong there.

His heart hurts in a pins and needles kind of way, the numbness of something slowly waking.

He can’t stay here.

Sora forces his eyes open and heaves himself to his feet. He can’t stay here. _She_ is waiting for him and he promised—he _promised_.

He shakes off the sleep that wants to cling to him, steels his heart, and heads for the next door.

 


	41. Diving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> World hopping has never been this slippery.

Traveling between worlds in the dreaming is different than traveling between them in the waking world.

In the waking world, he had always traveled through Corridors of Darkness, walking the paths Between. They were icy and slick, twisting passages that could make the unwary lose their way. Full of darkness and danger, they were, and Riku still holds them in respectful fear.

But in the dreaming, travel between the sleeping worlds is…he thinks the word is slippery. When he needs to jump to another world, the colors and shapes around him smear together and focus is difficult. It’s a bit like when he (and the word that comes to mind is) drops and the world becomes insubstantial and he thinks he can hear Sora’s voice from a long way off. Things trickle away and directions become lost. He tilts, he slips, and then

he Dives.

Riku finds that he cannot simply walk to another world, he has to jump into it. He has to dive through the scattered and fragmented dreams of the world below to reach it. Sometimes the Nightmares try to stop him and while fighting falling from the sky is a new experience, he manages to beat them back every time. Sometimes he falls too fast and his control is difficult; he tumbles from through the dreaming gates, bouncing off shattered dreams and shuddering as their forgotten emotions shudder through him.

He doesn’t like Diving.

He doesn’t like scraping against the pieces of the dreaming worlds below him, feeling their joys and sorrows ripple through him like ghosts, seeing flashes of memories that don’t belong to him. It makes him feel disjointed and splintered, as if someone else is trying to worm into his being. It reminds him too much of the darkness seeping into the cracks of his heart.

And yet, at the same time, Riku very much enjoys the sensation of flight that the Dive gives him. 

****

Sora has never traveled without a vessel before.

Well, that’s not necessarily true. He did once but that was when the darkness had consumed his home and he did not recall his travel or how he ended up in Traverse Town. But since then he has always had the Gummi Ship or some other way to travel, whether through swirling portal or by magic train. 

But in the dreaming, he must Dive.

The thrill of the Dive quickly fades once he realizes that there are even Nightmares here that will snap and claw at him. And that the rubble and debris floating around him are shattered dreams and long lost memories. He tries his hardest to avoid disturbing them in case someone gets them back someday. He doesn’t want to accidentally put a dent in someone’s dreams.

It’s strange, this dreaming. At times, it feels solid and he forgets that he is actually asleep. Then there are times when it becomes ethereal, like smoke through his fingers, and he slips and slides and struggles to grasp what is real. These dreams tug his heart in many different directions but he follows where he thinks is best. Sometimes, he thinks he falls asleep even here in the dreaming. Sleeping and dreaming and sleeping inside a dream. Sometimes he thinks he hears Riku’s voice.

But when he Dives, he is wide awake (while he is sleeping, dreaming).

The wind in his hair, the grin on his face, spinning and swerving and spiraling down, down, down. It’s almost like flying. Almost but not quite. Even though it’s not, it’s still amazing and he still laughs when he clears a gate and lands in the dreaming world below.

It makes him remember that he will always love flying. And one day, he promises himself for the hundredth time, he will take Riku and Kairi flying with him.

 


	42. Nightlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riku isn’t the only one who was lost in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not particularly fond of this one, I don't think it turned out all that well. But I'd been looking for a place to use this rhyme (prayer?) I'd come up with and it fit here.

Terra is sitting on his bed, wide awake in the middle of the night, with the light on in his room. His curtains are drawn against the darkness of the night outside, his blankets bunched around his knees where he’s drawn them up to his chest. His thick arms are wrapped around his legs, hands clasped at his ankles, and his head is ducked low so that his brown hair is sweeping over his face.

For a warrior of strength and bulk as he is, he seems awfully small. And maybe not a little bit frightened. He is whispering into his blankets, murmuring a soft series of words over and over and over again, a mantra against the shadows clustered in the corners of his room.

So focused is he on repeating these sacred words, he doesn’t hear the soft pad of footsteps on the hall carpet outside. It’s only the tentative rap of knuckles on the door that jolts him out of his trance.

“It’s open.” His voice sounds hollow, even to his own ears.

His door creaks open and Ventus slides awkwardly into the room, looking wary and trending like the floor is made of egg shells. The young Keybearer is in his pajamas, a blanket hanging around his shoulders like a shield against the night. Terra uncurls himself from his blankets, stretching out and leaning against his headboard.

“What’s wrong, Ven?”

Ventus shifts his weight, glances into the corners of the room where the shadows were crouching, ready to spring, “I dunno. I just…had a bad feeling in my heart. I couldn’t sleep. I was just walking around and I saw your light on so…” He shrugs and looks back up again, “What’re you still doing awake?”

Terra opens his mouth to say something that would brush aside the question but his throat closes and he has to take a moment to take his breath. He can’t lie to Ven, he can’t hide things from Ven, not anymore. So he braces himself and says,

“I have a bad feeling too. I can’t sleep. I can’t turn the light off or the darkness—“ He breaks off because just the word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Ventus’ expression breaks into something lost and worried and not a little hurt. He wrings a corner of his blanket in his hands and stares at his bare feet, toes curling on the edge of the rug. Terra watches him, trying to think of something to say.

Ventus asks something in a low voice, so softly that Terra almost misses it.

“What?”

“What do you do to hold the darkness back…?”

Terra blinks and then smiles a little, “The…the Master taught me something when I was little, when I too frightened of this big castle and it’s deep shadows to fall asleep. It’s not a magic spell or anything but it makes me feel better. Would you like to hear it?”

Ventus hesitates for a minute and then nods, drawing his blanket tighter around his shoulders.

Terra takes a breath, closes his eyes, and repeats in a soft cadence,

“Now I lay my heart to sleep  
Pray, dear Light, my heart to keep  
If darkness take me ‘fore I wake  
Then suffer the Light my heart to break”

Ventus cants his head to the side, “What does it mean?”

Terra shrugs one shoulder, “I’m not really sure. I’m not sure that it means anything. But to me it means that the Light will always be there, that even in the deepest darkness, there is always a light out there somewhere.”

The young blond still standing in front of the door wrings the corner of his blanket even tighter, mulling it all over in his head. There is hope in his blue eyes when he looks up at Terra again,

“Like…like Sora was a Light for us?”

Terra looks a bit startled but then he smiles like he hasn’t in a long while, “Yeah. Just like Sora was for us.”

Ventus beams and loosens his grip on his blanket, “Thanks Terra.” He spins on his heel and darts out the door. Before it clicks closed, however, he glances over his shoulder and says,

“Goodnight, Terra.”

“Goodnight, Ventus.”

The door closes and Terra stares at it for a long moment. Then he yanks his curtains open, flicks his light off, and slides down under his blankets. The darkness is still there, but he remembers now the light that is always there to drive it back.

 


	43. Hammer Blow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madness so easily claws its way into the unsuspecting mind.

There’s something disconcerting about Nobodies. Not the Organization members, for despite their terrifying strength and abilities they still appear human. But the other Nobodies, the monstrous ones, those sent chills down Sora’s spine. 

The Heartless they’ve fought in the past have been terrible and powerful and sometimes bigger than buildings. But they’ve never been scary. Not like the Nobodies are. The Heartless, Sora thinks, have always had a slightly comical air about them, something awkward and at times even silly. But the Nobodies are lithe and twisted and their movements are ripples and slices through the fabric of the worlds. They remind Sora of the time he found a snake in coiled in the bushes of the play island, hissing at him from the shadows, and how it would have bit him with its faster than lighting strike if Riku had not pulled him out of the way.

He doesn’t like the Nobodies.

He doesn’t like the way they bend and twist, how their bodies bulge and fluctuate like balloons deflating or ripples in a pond. They are almost grotesque in their movements and their blank facelessness haunts the edges of his cluttered dreams.

For the first time in his adventures, Sora feels frightened of his enemies.

And the deeper he goes into the mysteries and the darkness that surround the Organization, the more and more powerful the Nobodies he struggles against become.

When Saix leaves him standing in the Sandlot of Twilight Town, his heart still struck by the worry of what might have happened to Riku, he finds that their eeriness can do more than haunt his dreams.

He’s still staring at the space where Saix has vanished when Goofy calls for him in a warning panic. Sora spins around in time to see the world ripple as it does when the Nobodies appear. He expects hoards of Dusks or Snipers and Dancers.

He does not expect the Berserkers.

Sora has never seen them before. He is used to the Nobodies being thin and whip-like, narrow and bendy. The Berserkers are hulking, massive Nobodies, beasts with giant claymores and still hauntingly faceless. Their claymores seem to drag them across the battlefield rather then they dragging the weapons, their limbs loose, sock puppets in the grip of some invisible master. They are slow moving but dangerous and their blows pack a terrible punch.

Sora’s Keyblades skitters down the flat of one of the claymores in a shower of sparks and then bounces away without doing any damage. He grunts in frustration and takes to the air, vaulting over the head of the Berserker and swinging down with his Keyblade to give it a good wallop on the head. The blow connects but the Berserk doesn’t seem at all fazed. In fact, it just rotates around its claymore, lifts it with one hulking arm, and lands a blow right in Sora’s gut.

With a rasp of air rushing out of his lungs, Sora goes tumbling through the air to slam into one of the benches around the Sandlot. It cracks and then breaks under his weight and speed, driving splinters into his spine. The Keybearer wheezes, rolling onto his hands and knees as he tries to suck in air. He feels a bruise already forming tight across the skin and muscle of his chest and he winces as he heaves himself back to his feet just in time to swing his Keyblade around and block the blow of another claymore. The blow sends a mournful vibration down his Keyblade and makes his teeth rattle in his skull.

Frustrated and hurt and not a little bit frightened of these behemoths, Sora surges forward with a wordless cry, pushing the Berserker back. It slides back, claymore dragging and leaving a rivet in the dirt. Sora pushes forward again, hammering against the claymore and driving the Nobody back even more. It raises its weapon to retaliate and Sora dives under the swing that left the Berserker wide open. He smashes his Keyblade into its broad chest and unleashes a hurricane of fire, the heat searing the ground in a spiral around him as he pours the magic out.

The Berserker’s faceless head tilts back as if it is howling in anguish to the twilit sky. Then it vanishes in burst of thorns and ripples.

But its claymore stays wedged in the ground.

Sora leaps out of the way as another claymore smashes into the ground in front of him. He strikes out with his Keyblade, knocking the weapon aside with a blow that jars his arm. And leaves him wide open for another blow as the Berserker drags its claymore up to strike him down.

He doesn’t even think.

His hand snaps out and his fingers close around the grip of the claymore still wedged in the ground beside him. 

And he sees red.

He forgets he is Sora. He forgets he is a Keybearer. He forgets his Keyblade. He forgets Goofy and Donald. He forgets that he is in Twilight Town.

All he knows is that there are _enemies_ and that he must _destroy them_ to _protect_.

There is red in his veins, in his skin, in his heart, in his gut. He breathes red, it leaks from his eyes, it drips off his tongue, it tangles in his fingers. It is not anger, it is not rage, it is not hatred. It is just red. A sensation that pulses through him, seeping into his mind and burning his blood. He will obliterate his enemies with such power and madness they will never dare breathe his name for fear it will summon him to their destruction.

He swings the claymore as if it were a paper sword, slicing through the haze of red and smashing it into an _enemy_. The weapon rips through them and plows them into the air. He follows, swinging the claymore with wide heavy blows, that throw the _enemy_ to and fro. Each strike sends a clatter through his bones and a boom through his chest that makes him shake. It makes the red shiver through his mind and over his eyes.

The claymore smashes into the _stupid weak enemy_ and sends it crashing into the ground where it vanishes in a violent spark of black and white.

He drops to the ground with a boom that makes his bones ache. He licks his teeth, taste the red on them, and hisses out a tight breath. There are sounds bouncing against the red in his ears and he head lolls back on his shoulders to catch them.

His fingers slip from the claymore as he turns and it vanishes in a sucking of light and a ripple of reality.

The red dribbles out of his body. It trickles from between his lips and out his nose, dripping down his chin, it seeps away from his eyes and he blinks to clear them. It trembles out of his fingertips, pooling on the ground around his feet before it vanishes.

When the last of it clears his mind, he remembers his name and wonders why his body is so sore. 

Sora looks up at his friends, looks up at Goofy and Donald in wonderment,

“What…did I do…?” His voice is a rasp and he’s trembling with a fatigue he doesn’t understand.

They share a glance, “You…you kind of went…” Goofy pauses, searching for a word.

“Berserk.” Donald says in the quietest voice he’s ever used.

Sora thinks he remembers a smear of red and the thrill of heavy blows. He looks down at his fingers trembling under his gloves and clenches them into a fist and remembers when he held a weapon that wasn’t his Keyblade.

He swallows sandpaper and grit that gets stuck in the back of his dry throat.

“I don’t think we should touch those claymores…” Sora murmurs.

For the first time, that edge of fear he’s been feeling creeps into his voice and makes it quiver.

 


	44. City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wit is the only wall  
> Between us and the dark” - Mark Van Doren

This world, Riku thinks, is not true darkness.

He knows what true darkness is. He has looked into it and it has looked back at him and he has thrown its smug smirk back in its stupid face. Of course, it had retaliated with a punch that had blackened his eye but Riku is strong enough not to let something like a metaphorical black eye slow him down.

Especially in this place.

Riku wants to hate this city. He wants to hate it and what it stands for and who it shelters. And while he can shower his dislike the inhabitants as much as he wants, he can’t find himself hating on the city itself.

It is a sprawling, empty metropolis filled with deep shadows, sharp neon edges, and the near constant drizzle of cold rain. It’s as crooked and disconnected as he is and he has to smirk at the thought. The World That Never Was doesn’t have as many shadows as Riku does but he knows how to hide in them and he likes the shapes they make across the pavement and metal grills.

He has never seen a city before. He’d heard of them from the adults on the islands and had dreamed of seeing them one day. He thinks his younger self would not have liked this city. But Riku, the Riku here and now, he likes it very much. It’s very fitting for him. All deep and dark with streets that go nowhere and run into dead ends, with twisted metal and the sickly glow of neon making the shadows deeper, with that awful blot of a castle hovering over the whole city like a blight on the land.

Riku turns his head to look at the thing, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the sight. It’s a ghastly thing, a confusing mess of towers and spires and arches and Riku hates to look at it. He doesn’t much care for castles. For a variety of reasons. The castle of the Organization is the brightest thing on this desolate world, as shining and silvery and white as a pearl from the market on the island beaches. Or maybe Riku’s hair. Someone compared his hair to a pearl once when he was smaller and he punched them, he remembers. 

He remembers a lot from the islands.

They seem so far away now.

Probably for the best.

Riku turns away from the castle floating above the great, glowing maw on the other side of the city and crouches on the rooftop, hood pulled low over his face. It has taken a while to get used to this shape. But not too much of a while. He’s always been tall and his hair has always been longer. It still startles him a few times but he’s gotten used to it. 

Everything in this city is tall. He will never be as tall as these skyscrapers—these buildings that seem to touch the stars—that would be ridiculous. There are lights that glow from the some of the windows of the towers, faint lights that shine into empty rooms. A bit like his own heart, he thinks. Or rather hopes.

He hopes there is a faint glimmer of light still left somewhere in the empty, shadowy recesses of his heart.

A sour taste fills his mouth and he frowns slightly, sweeping his gaze over the city to distract himself. His eyes are snagged on the bright lines of Memory Skyscraper.

What a stupid name.

He fought there once, was defeated there only to rise again. He doesn’t like the way he feels when thinking about that place. It’s one of the few places in this city he’s not very fond of.

It’s such a nice city. Such a shame _they_ gave it so many pretentious names. Alley to Between; it doesn’t even go anywhere except a dead end. Brink of Despair; gag. The ones in the castle are worse. Crooked Ascension; it’s an elevator for Light’s sake. Twilight’s View; there’s nothing to see but the castle walls and hundreds of flights of stairs. And the worst of all, The Alter of Naught; some platform Riku has never been to that the Superior apparently likes to linger upon for hours at a time.

Riku supposes he isn’t one to talk. He’d named his blade Soul Eater. If that wasn’t pretentious then he didn’t know what was. What a idiot he’d been. What a spoiled, selfish fool. 

His hands are clenched into trembling fists and he breathes out slowly, trying to relax. He is not angry at the worlds nor at his own fate. He is angry with himself. Furious, honestly. He’s been working on that, controlling himself. It comes with controlling the darkness. If he cannot control himself, he reasons, then how can he expect to control the darkness.

The Nobodies do not control the darkness. They think they do but that is only because they have strength and the Heartless, well, everyone knows the Heartless obey whoever is the strongest.

Riku knows what true darkness is.

He tastes it when he wakes up from his very brief, very unrestful sleeps. He can smell it every time he takes a breath. It is in his very bones, twisted among the very fibers of his being and bleeding into his veins. 

He _is_ darkness.

And, like this city sprawled out before him, he is hollow and empty and alone.

 


	45. Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say good friends and good food are both good for the soul.

“What did you guys eat while you were out traveling the worlds?”

Riku and Sora look up at Kairi in surprise. They’re all sitting on the beach of the play island, drying after running through the ocean, sand sticking to their limbs. Lea is a few feet away with his hands behind his head and his eyes closed; he appears to be asleep. Goofy and Donald have wandered off somewhere with the King and Queen and no one’s bothered enough to find out where they went.

“What do you mean?” Riku asks, his back curved as he leans over his folded legs, twisting and folding and braiding long fronds of palm leaves between his fingers.

“Both of you were traveling for almost two years straight. What did you eat? You did eat, didn’t you?” Kairi scolds them both.

“What? Yeah!” Sora huffs at her, leaning back against his hands, heels almost touching the surf, “Me and Goofy and Donald ate on all the worlds we went to! I got to try all kinds of food! It was really fun.”

“What about between the worlds?” Kairi persists, legs tucked underneath her and hands folded in her lap. She looks dainty like this, like a flower, but none of them are fooled, “What did you eat while you were on the Gummi Ship?”

“Uuhh,” Sora rolls his eyes towards the blue sky, squinting against the bright sun, “Noodles, mostly. Rice. Instant stuff, ya know. Easy for travel.”

“No wonder you gained weight.” Riku mutters to the braid of fronds in his hands.

“Hey! Did you just call me fat!?” Sora shouts, swiping a handful of sand at Riku who twists so that it just slides down his back, “What about _you_ , huh!? What did _you_ eat?”

“Yeah, Riku,” Kairi leans around Sora, smirking, “What _did_ you eat while you were traveling with the King?”

“Mm,” Riku turns his head just enough so that his hair hides most of his face. His fingers are working the palm fronds almost nervously, “Not…a lot. Didn’t need to eat in the Realm of Darkness, never even occurred to us to try because we were too busy fighting. After that, uh. Vending machines in Cast—er, around different places. Sandwiches and instant stuff when I was working with Ansem the Wise.”

“So _you_ didn’t eat right either!” Kairi berates and Riku ducks his head even lower, fumbling with the bracelet of palm fronds, “I can’t believe you two! How did you survive without me!? Lea!”

The red head jolts in surprise and looks around at the trio with wide eyes. Kairi is glaring hard at him and he pushes himself up on his elbows, ready to flee if necessary,

“Yyyeeeaaahhh…?”

“What did you eat in the Organization!?”

“Kairi!” Sora cries, flapping his hands at her, “You can’t just ask people that!!”

“Uh…” Lea looks surprised by the question. He pushes himself into a sitting position, brushing sand out of his spiky locks, “Well, snacks mostly. We were always busy doing something so it’s not like we really had time to sit down and have a meal, you know.”

“You just ate ice cream, don’t lie.” Riku says so softly almost no one hears it.

“Riku!” Sora is mortified.

Lea seems to be pretending he hasn’t heard. He’s looking out towards the ocean, one leg stretched towards the water, the other crooked up to his chest so he can drape his arm over it, “Man, I remember Xaldin had these, like, gross…dried prune things. I dunno what they were but I swear he had them _all the time_. Demyx ate chips a lot—he got crumbs all over, the slob. Eh,” The red head scratches at the side of his face, an uncomfortable gesture, “We never ate together, mostly because none of us really got along with each other. The closest we ever got was munching on snacks in the Round Room during meetings. Kinda pathetic, huh?”

The other three are silent, watching him. Riku has even stopped folding the fronds.

“Let’s have a feast.” Kairi says suddenly over the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore.

“Huh?” Lea says, turning to look at her.

“Yeah!” Sora shouts enthusiastically, throwing his hands (and a good deal of sand) into the air, “A hhuuugggeee feast! Riku! Riku, get the King to make us a feast!”

“Wha—me? Why me?” The Keyblade Master sutters.

“‘Cause you’re like his _best bro_!” Sora nudges his friend in the side and Riku’s face flushes a light shade of pink.

“We’ll make it together, you doofus!” Kairi laughs, grabbing Sora’s arm and tugging on him, “Come on! Let’s go find him! Riku, Lea, come on! We’re gonna have a feast!”

“A proper island feast!” Sora howls, jumping to his feet in an explosion of sand and enthusiasm. Riku spits out a mouthful of sand and scowls as he abandons his half finished frond bracelet and clambers to his feet.

“What’s an island feast?” Lea wanders over, dusting the sand off his long frame.

“Pig cooked in a pit and pineapples and hand squeezed lemonade!” Sora cries, dodging past Riku to grab Lea’s wrist and pull him across the beach, “And grilled ribs and fruit pies and cinnamon cookies! Come on, come on! If we get this going now I bet we can do _fireworks too_!”

“Fireworks, huh…” Lea smirks, “I can do fireworks.”

Riku looks a bit worried and Kairi laughs and Sora leads the parade, waxing poetic about the grand feast he has planned. Lea interjects with comments on the proper use of fireworks. When they find the group from Disney Castle, the feast idea is an immediate success.

Now Sora, Riku, and Kairi just have to convince their parents.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I think about video game characters taking breaks and sleeping and eating snacks and stuff far more than I should. I'm a sucker for the domestic. What DID you kids eat while you were out world hopping? Probably nothing but snacks.


	46. Limit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teamwork is essential so saving the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sick and stuck on the couch and I can't do anything else so have an early update.

Riku’s trying. 

By golly, he’s trying his damnedest.

But this endeavor is starting to feel like he’s trying to catch smoke with his bare hands. Or like he’s shouting at a brick wall. Yeah, definitely shouting at a brick wall.

“Master Yen Sid sent us out here to work _as a team_!” He insists for what feels like the millionth time.

“This _is_ teamwork, Quicksilver!” Lea calls back. And promptly bathes the ground in an expanding ring of flames that force Sora and Kairi to jump back several feet.

Riku bristles at the nickname, his neck hot under his the collar of his shirt. He forces himself to calm down, “Lea, trying to drown your friends in flames is not teamwork. You need to be aware of your friends and what they’re doing, you need to know when to assist them if they need it, and you need to have better control of your flames.”

Lea makes a face and turns his back on Riku, kicking a Heartless out of the way with his boot before swinging his Keyblade down to obliterate it. Riku feels like maybe he should be getting angry about Lea’s obvious disrespect towards him but he doesn’t. However, he does file it away for his report back to Yen Sid after this training mission is over.

“Yeah, Lea, you almost fried me!” Sora shouts, plowing through a row of Heartless like a tank.

“Sora,” Riku says in a clipped tone as he sweeps aside his own batch of Heartless, “Stop narrowing your focus. You’re still using too much energy. You’d tire yourself out less if you pushed some of those Heartless towards your allies.”

Sora hesitates and Riku knows why he’s hesitating. So he darts to his friend’s side, leans close, and says in a low voice so the other two can’t hear, “Stop trying to shoulder this weight by yourself. You’re not alone.” And before Sora can answer, he pulls away and distances himself from the three trainees again, “Kairi! You have to swing your Keyblade, you can’t just rely on magic. You’re going to tire yourself out like that.”

Kairi grimaces; she’s better at fighting long distance, prefers it. But she needs to learn. Not every enemy they encounter will be as lenient as low level Shadows and Neo Shadows. Riku watches as she steels herself, lowers her Keyblade, and charges. He smiles a little. Of the three, she’s the one who works the hardest. He thinks maybe she’s trying to prove something, maybe prove she doesn’t need to be left behind anymore. Whatever the reason he can’t help but feel a bit proud of her determination. He almost admires it.

A flicker of flames draws his attention back to Lea who is struggling with a sudden influx of Heartless. He waits to see if Sora or Kairi have noticed and will help the red head. When neither of them do (Kairi has her back to Lea and is pounding on a Neo Shadow in front of her with a dangerous ferocity, Sora is flinging chunks of ice on the opposite side of the battle field), Riku dives in to help Lea out himself. He swings his Keyblade about and knocks a few Heartless aside, clearing a path to the newest Keybearer. He pats a hand lightly against Lea’s back to let Lea know he’s there and then spins away to start clearing out the Heartless.

“I didn’t ask for you help,” Lea grunts as he fights off the Heartless.

Riku doesn’t answer, just ducks a swing of black claws and launches back with his own quick strikes. There are still too many Heartless. He thinks that maybe this is the perfect time for a lesson.

He doesn’t say anything to Lea, he just moves. He relies on instinct and the will of his heart and he trusts Lea’s fighting ability enough to know what to do.

Black and blue flames burst to life in Riku’s free hand, whirling over his shoulder as he spins around Lea so they’re face to face. At first, Lea looks startled at Riku’s appearance. Then he sees the dark fire in Riku’s hand and his eyes gleam, a sneer twisting his features. The red head leaps back a few feet, putting space between himself and the Keyblade Master in front of him, and then raises his Keyblade, grasping it with both hands.

Riku pulls back his arm and hurls the fireball towards Lea. As it closes in, Lea swings his Keyblade around and up as hard as he can with a wild shout of “FORE!”. Keyblade and fireball meet in a fantastic shower of sparks and liquid spurts of flame that explode out into the Heartless, scattering them. The main fireball itself is launched high into the air above them. Riku crouches low to the ground and leaps up after it. On the ground, Lea is spinning his Keyblade, following his swing through with wide arcs that make the air shimmer with heat until it bursts into flames so hot they’re burning white. They swirl around and around him in a thin tornado, slowly thickening as he builds them up around him.

Up in the air, Riku has overtaken the fireball. He smashes his Keyblade into it with a snarl of force, adding more magic to it as he does, and sends it hurtling back towards Lea. It is a dark meteor streaking towards the earth, a black fireball heading straight on a collision course with a vortex of white hot flames. Lea looks up to see it coming and grins, a wild, unchained thing that sets his eyes on fire. He grasps his Keyblade in both hands and raises it over his head, the tip pointing towards the incoming fireball. 

The forces collide with a noise so loud it is inaudible and deafening at the same time.

White and black-blue fire roars out across the battlefield, clawing and biting, almost shaping itself into snarling wolves as it consumes the Heartless. When it finally flickers and fades out, it leaves behind a pressing silence and very few Heartless.

Riku lands on the ground in front of Lea and the two of them cross their Keyblades with equally smug looks of satisfaction.

“DUDE!” Sora’s shout breaks the moment. He’s standing several yards away with his mouth hanging open and his Keyblade dangling at his side, “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?”

“100 munny to the Swear Jar!” Lea shouts back with sneer.

Sora sputters and his face turns red. Unable to think of anything to say, he kicks a Heartless and slams his Keyblade into it with more force than necessary. Lea laughs at him.

Riku, satisfied with the results of his little lesson, claps Lea on the shoulder and trots off to watch what remains of the fight. Lea looks around at him and says to Riku’s retreating back,

“You don’t have to be such an asshole about being right, ya’ know.”

“100 munny to the Swear Jar.” Riku waves his hand over his shoulder and almost smiles when he feels Lea’s glare bore into his spine.

As he brushes past Kairi (knocking a few Heartless out of the way as he goes), she grabs his wrist, stopping him, “Seriously Riku, what _was_ that? I’ve never seen you pull off magic like that before. Lea either. What did you do?”

Riku looks at her seriously and simply says, “Teamwork.”

 


	47. Stupor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let us have Wine and Women, Mirth and Laughter  
> Sermons and soda-water the day after.” - Lord Byron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of the new year and in the fact that I might actually being drunk rught now I'm not sure how you tell, here. Have this update. And a happy new year guys!

Lea says they’re old enough to try. Maybe not old enough to appreciate it but definitely old enough to try.

“I used to do it all the time as a kid,” He boasts, hip cocked, head tilted, all sneer and daring humor, “Sneak into the palace winery, get as hammered as possible, and see who could make it out first.” No one says anything about the bitter edge in his voice and no one asks what “we” means.

“I dunno…” Sora shifts uneasily. He’s a good boy and there are rules about this for a reason. Still, he can’t deny that he’s horribly curious and there’s a wicked, rebellious part of him (that part that Riku has nourished over the years the sneak) that wants to try.

“Don’t be a baby.” Says that traitor Riku as he slides a bottle off the shelf, inspects it like he knows what he’s doing, and pries the cork out with tendrils of darkness. Totally cheating.

“I’m not a baby!” Sora huffs and snatches the open bottle from Lea’s hand to prove his point. Unfortunately Lea has extremely strong tastes and the huge gulp Sora takes sends the young Keybearer wheezing and waving the bottle back at Lea.

“Maybe start with something lighter, Sora,” Kairi pats him gently on the back. Sora waves a hand at her from where he’s doubled over his knees and heaving in air and pretending his eyes aren’t watering.

Riku, meanwhile, is tasting as many bottles of wine as are within his lazy reach from the table beside the wine racks. Which, given his height, is quite a lot. There is a small collection of open wine bottles sitting around him. He currently has one nestled between his crossed legs, peering at the liquid within as he tries to determine whether he likes it or not.

“Kairi,” He says suddenly, thrusting the bottle towards her, “Try this and tell me what you think.”

Kairi glances at Sora, who seems to be finally getting his breath back, and gingerly takes the bottle from Riku. It smells like fruits and something thick. She takes a small mouthful and looks delighted at the flavor,

“This is good!”

There’s a little twist of a smile on Riku’s face that says he knew exactly what she was going to think of it. He picks up one of his other open bottles, sniffs it, and then jumps off the table to hand it to Sora. Sora rubs the salt from his eyes, gives the bottle a suspicious look, and then takes it anyway. He takes a sip and sticks his tongue out,

“Bleh! It’s gross! Riku, why’d you give me a gross one!?”

“Try this one instead,” Lea jiggles a bottle in front of Sora’s face, almost smacking him in the nose, “I think it’s more to your weak, girly tastes.”

“I resent that!” Kairi shouts.

“I don’t want anything _you’re_ drinking,” Sora huffs, pushing the bottle away, “It’ll just burn me!”

“Nah, promise it won’t,” Quick as a flash, Lea swaps the wine in Sora’s hand for the bottle of whatever it is he’s holding, “You’ll like it, trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

Sora makes a rude face and an even ruder gesture at Lea as the red head turns away. But he takes a sip of the drink anyway. And then he takes a bigger drink because, wow, hey this tastes pretty good!

“Don’t chug it.” Riku the hypocrite says, a bottle of wine in each hand. He’s back on the table with his small collection of bottles but he seems to have settled on the two in his grip, “You’ll make yourself sick.”

“That’s the _point_ , Quicksilver.” Lea chuckles. His trademark grin is a little sloppier than usual.

“I don’t want to throw up…” Kairi mutters but she takes another drink of the fruity wine anyway.

The room is filled with the thick scents of fruit, cloves, and spices. Sora is sitting on the floor now, cross-legged, turning the bottle around and around in his hands. Kairi is leaning against him. Riku remains on the table but now he is leaning back against the wall, his feet dangling off the floor. Lea is slouched against the wall, slowly sliding down to the floor in a happily defeated manner.

“We’re prolly going to get in trouble for this, huh?” Sora asks to nobody in particular.

“Oh _definitely_ ,” Lea pushes red spikes out of his face as he slides a little closer to the floor, “But mostly Riku ‘cause he opened all those bottles.”

“Had to find one I liked.” Riku argues, scowling at Lea as he takes a drink.

“I feel warm,” Kairi murmurs around the mouth of her own wine bottle, “Is that s’posed to happen?”

“Yyyyeeeppp!” Lea replies cheerily to the ceiling as he slides the rest of the way down to the floor, “Warm and heated like _fire_ , baby!”

“She’s not your baby.” Sora huffs, kicking a foot in Lea’s direction.

“Blech.” Says Riku and sets down one of the bottles. He jumps off the table in what is apparently supposed to be a graceful manner but he botches it up and lands awkwardly, tripping and stumbling over his own feet. Kairi starts giggling as he rights himself and stalks determinedly over to the other two with his nose in the air as if nothing had happened. He slouches to the floor and leans heavily against Sora who doesn’t seem to mind at all.

They stay that way for a while, talking and drinking, muttering empty words to each other and laughing at things that aren’t really that funny. Sora somehow ends up with his head on Kairi’s lap and tries to take a drink that way but finds out laying on the floor gets more drink on your front than in your mouth. By the time he’s repositioned himself, Riku is slumped back to back with Kairi and is muttering darkly into the neck of his now second wine bottle. Lea has migrated across the floor to lean against the wine racks nearby. No one can remember actually seeing him move.

“How—how do you know when you’re drunk?” Sora asks sloppily, eyes lidded as he smiles at the ceiling. His cheeks are flushed and his breaths are quick.

Lea sucks in a deep breath and instead of answering he bursts into a fit of giggles. He waves his hand dismissively, shaking his head at what a helpless case Sora is. Kairi gives him the finger for no real reason and plants sloppy kisses on Riku and Sora’s foreheads.

“Leeeaaaaaa,” Sora whines, hoisting his third bottle into the air, “Answer mmmeeeee! How d-do I knnnnooowwwwww!?”

If Lea was going to answer this time, he never gets the chance.

“What do you four think you’re doing!?” King Mickey’s shrill voice slices right through them and they flinch. The King is standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking absolutely mortified to find the four Keybearers half drunk in the not-just-wine cellars of Disney Castle, “Who’s idea was this!?”

Sora hauls himself upright, head lolling on his shoulders, grinning in a most ridiculous and lopsided manner. He opens his mouth and raises a hand to point at Lea who is already bristling and turning the same shade as his hair.

He’s cut off by the atrocious sound of Riku throwing up under the table.


	48. Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We be fire, we be light, we be life! We dance electric fire, we skim sense, we be the ocean and the burning and the sunrise and the sunset on the edge of the world, we chase moonlight and sunlight and we do not stop, we cannot be tamed, we be free!” - The blue electric angels from A Madness of Angels (The Resurrection of Matthew Swift) by Kate Griffin

He has always played with fire.

It’s a part of him, as much as his bright red hair is. Such an odd thing, they called him. Such an odd child with his red hair and his sharp words and his passion for the flickering of flames. They said he was a “loose canon”. They called him a menace sometimes, they called him rowdy, they called him wild, they called him a delinquent and he was frequently punished for doing things he apparently shouldn’t have been doing.

And they always told him to stop playing with fire.

He never had a talent for magecraft but fire always seemed to bend to him. The licking tongues of heat, the snap and pop of air burning, the way it consumes, they way it sears, the marks it leaves. The memories it leaves behind; good or bad. He is fascinated by the many faces fire takes—one moment it is your friend, cheerily keeping you warm against the cold night, and the next it is an all consuming raging blaze that destroys your entire life.

The irony of this is not lost on him.

_“Keep playing with fire like that and you’re going to get burned!”_

Nah, not him. Fire is his friend, it loves him, even in its hatred and rage, it loves him.

***

By the time the Superior (His Gracious Asshole, His Almighty Dickbag, The One and Only Asswipe of the Worlds) deigns to send him on a mission by himself, he figures several years have passed. He had kicked and scratched and bit and fought until they showed him how _wrong_ he was to defy them and that, really, the best hope he had of becoming him again was to work with them. Now he gets to run solo.

So do his flames.

He’s supposed to scare the inhabitants of this world, frighten them, give the darkness an opening into their hearts so that the Heartless can seep inside. He’s never really scared anyone. Pranked them, yes, lashed out at them, gotten angry, chased them off. But never scared anyone enough to allow darkness into their hearts.

He tries it and, to his delight and disgust, finds he enjoys it.

The church burns with a satisfying groan of old timbers. Shards of colored glass explode and leave glittering patterns on the pavement, sparkling merrily in the dancing firelight. Stone pops and collapses under its own weight.

The people scream and struggle uselessly against the fire. He will not allow it to be put out by their pathetic dribbles of water and lets the flames burn hotter and hotter until the very air is burning and people are choking as they flee the blaze.

He finds himself smiling and wonders why.

He has no heart, he cannot feel.

So he lets the fire feel for him.

***

The Luna Diviner is cold moonlight.

He wonders where his old friend went. Lost in the silvery light, frozen by the space dust and stars, drunk on moonbeams and darkness and nothing.

He leaves ashes in his wake and the man with the scar on his face who use to go by another name doesn’t look at him. The creature with the claymore and the moonlight bleeding through his skin is immune to fire, he thinks.

He also thinks that the Luna Diviner’s eyes are the wrong color.

***

He’s never killed before.

Burned, tormented, frightened, tortured, threatened. But never killed.

But then, is it really killing when the ones he’s killing never existed in the first place? Nobodies do not have hearts, they do not feel, they do not exist.

He convinces himself he feels no regret as he flames chew up the Chilly Academic and burn away the ice he so proudly controlled. And yet all he can do is wear that grin to hide the sickness turning over inside him.

Murderer.

He brushes ash from his fingers and shakes it from his boots. No one has to know about this. Least of all The Keys of Destiny waiting for him in a place that’s anywhere but here. He wants to burn this place but the walls don’t burn and his flames look pale compared to the brilliant whiteness. It would look pure if it didn’t look so sterile. It’s empty here, as empty as the rest of them.

It’s cold and he would say he hated it. But he doesn’t have a heart. So he lets his flames hate it for him and they burn away all the wrongness. They burn the traitors, just as they have burned everything else that has gotten in his way.

The flames are his friends. If he loses everything else, he will always have them. He will always have his flames.

He tells himself that when he’s far away from the two people he calls friends.

***

This time, he wishes the fire would turn on him.

He wants it to burn him, to eat him alive, to destroy him like it has destroyed so much and so many. He wants it to _hurt_ because burning alive has to hurt more than this does. It has to hurt more than fighting those twin Keys—black and white and steel and it’s too late for that now and—

Fuck, but he’s sorry.

He can’t feel that. He’s not supposed to feel that. But he is. He’s sorry.

Delinquent. Murderer. Coward.

He wants to say he would have left too but he didn’t because his friend is still lost in the moonlight and nothing and he could still save him. But no, no, he knows that’s wrong because the Luna Diviner’s eyes are the wrong color and he’s lost.

He didn’t leave because he was _afraid_.

Those Keys hurt when they hit him. He wants them to. He wants his own fire to wrap him up and burn him to bones and ashes and dust. He wants to burn and he wants it to hurt because anything would be better than doing this. The Keys hurt when they cut through his cloak and bite into his skin.

But they don’t hurt as much as the look on the Key of Destiny’s face.

They don’t hurt as much as seeing the Warrior of Light walk through the sunset burned city.

***

Everything else, Lea thinks—no, he _knows_ —everything else has failed him. Everything else is lost to him.

Roxas, Isa, humanity, peace, happiness, friendship, sunsets, a normal life, growing up. That’s all gone. He’ll never get those things back. He’s lost them. His strength has failed him, his own heart has failed him, and his chakrams have failed him. His trust has failed him, his wit has failed him, and his words have failed him. Everything else in all the worlds in all the skies have failed him.

But his fire hasn’t.

Even if it’s the only thing he can do, even if it’s all he knows how to do, even if it’s all he trusts anymore, he knows the flames won’t fail him.


	49. Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no better place to be at 2am.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So things have kind of slowed down as you've probably noticed. I'm running out of shots that I have stockpiled and pre-written and I haven't written anything else recently. So once I'm out of those shots I've already written I'll probably close this collection down unless I get inspired again.  
> All that being said, this particular shot was sort of written for one of my very dear friends who kind of adopted me in college. She used to work at a sandwich shop and often ended up with the closing shift. Afterwards, she and her coworkers would have some mild, after dark adventures. This was inspired by those stories she told and it's for her as a thanks for everything.

They’re at a diner on some backwater world in the darkest hours of the morning because none of them want to be asleep.

All three of them had tried, curled against one another in Riku’s bedroom because it’s the darkest and somehow the quietest. But they can’t fall asleep, they don’t want to fall asleep. They can taste the storm building on the horizon and it sets their nerves on edge.

“Should we have invited Lea…?” Sora asks hesitantly and that makes it clear how bad it is because Sora never hesitates. He’s turning his sweating plastic cup of soda across the vinyl yellow of the tabletop, leaving rings as he goes.

“Maybe, I dunno,” Kairi is doing origami with her paper placemat featuring the specials of the week, “He doesn’t like being woken up in the middle of the night, though. You know what a grump he is.”

“He probably isn’t sleeping either.” Riku says softly. He looks like he’s almost asleep, slouched against the back of the booth beside Kairi, his chin to his chest, his hair in his face. His arms are crossed over his chest and to anyone who doesn’t know him, he appears grumpy. He’s not. He’s on high alert.

“We should go back and get him.” Sora says with a finality that says he will take no arguments. He leans over his soda and chews on the straw, staring at the other two. Kairi has the Gummi Ship keys.

“We can’t just leave, Sora! We haven’t paid!” Kairi huffs, “And we haven’t even ordered food!”

“I’ll go get him.” Riku stands up and walks out of the diner. They don’t see him leave but they can sense the darkness, like the lingering flavor of black licorice in the back of the mouth. Sora sniffs and takes a drink of soda. Kairi makes more folds in her origami project.

Not a minute later, Riku’s return is announced by the brass bells tied above the door jangling loudly into the quiet diner. He flops back into his seat by Kairi with a grunt and slouches back into his former position. Lea sits down beside Sora, his hair tied back messily in a spiky ponytail, and tucks his chin into his turtleneck. He doesn’t like wearing things with hoods anymore if he can help it.

The tired waiter has noticed their booth now has another occupant and comes over to do his duty, “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Fireball whiskey.” Lea says without looking up.

“Er…” The waiter says helplessly, pen hovering over his notepad.

“This is a diner, not a bar,” Riku chides in a low voice. A single eye judges Lea from underneath strands of silver hair.

Lea scowls at him, “Fine, fine. Whatever the kid’s having.” He jerks a thumb at Sora who takes another noisy slurp of soda.

“And does everyone know what they want to eat or do you still need a few minutes?” The waiter continues the script. Kairi presses down a few more creases into the slowly forming creature between her hands.

“Pancakes! Blueberry pancakes!” Sora chirps over the top of his straw, beaming.

“The hottest, spiciest thing on your menu,” Lea says, giving the waiter a sly look out of the corner of his eye, “And make it extra spicy.”

“Burger and fries, please.” Kairi adds.

“Chicken wrap.” Riku mutters, still not looking up, “And crinkle cut fries.”

“Coming right up,” The waiter moves away towards the kitchen and silence falls over them once more. Riku appears to have truly nodded off but his face is hidden in his hair and the hood of his baggy sweater so no one can tell for sure. Sora’s gaze has gone unfocused and slid out the dark window, the straw caught between his teeth as he lets his mind wander into dark corners. Lea puts his elbow on the table, his chin in his hand, and closes his eyes.

“Done!” Kairi claps her hands together, sitting back in her seat, and Lea jerks, startled. Everyone looks around at the paper dragon perched on the tabletop, it’s wings arching into the air, very reminiscent of a paper crane.

“Pretty sharp, princesses,” Lea murmurs tiredly, “Does it breathe fire too?” There’s that sneaky look about him and the fingers of his other hand are pressed together, tensed to snap and crack the air.

“Don’t you dare.” Kairi hisses, glaring daggers at the redhead. Lea’s grin widens.

“No.” Riku says with a firm finality and the tension leaks out of the air faster than a balloon with a hole in it. Lea slumps back in his seat with a pout and Kairi proudly parades her dragon across the table. Sora watches it go with a dull, sleepy gaze, slurping up more of his drink.

“Is this okay?” He asks and the others look at him in confusion. He blinks and sits up a little straighter, “I mean, not _this_ ,” A gesture to the empty diner and the dark streets outside, “But, like, ya’ know. This.”

“Oh.” Says Lea in understanding, “This.”

“No one else will do it.” Kairi offers.

“Plenty of others will try to do it,” Riku points out in an almost stoic manner. Almost, “But they won’t be able to. That’s why…this.” His fingers twitch across his arm and there’s a shiver in the air like something that almost is but isn’t quite.

“Yeah, I know that,” Sora huffs, “But are we okay with this?”

They pause to consider it. While they do, the waiter brings Lea’s soda and assures them their food will be out shortly.

“I’ve got nothin’ else,” Lea scoops his soda up and speaks around the straw, “It’s this or nothing. And I honestly don’t mind. I don’t care. If I don’t do this when I can, then what kind of shit loser would that make me?” He sets his drink down a little to hard on the table and the ice cubes clatter like shards of glass, “Others did this. I can to.”

They know what others he means.

“I’m okay with this,” Kairi says after a moment, “This is…I mean, it’s not all right. But it’s…I mean, we’re together. And I think that’s the important part. That even though _this_ is what it is, we’re still together.” She knocks her foot into Lea’s ankle under the table, “All of us.”

“Mm,” Sora rocks back in his seat, plastic-y bright red pleather creaking beneath him, “Yeah. I guess I’m okay with it too. Sometimes I’m not, I don’t want to be sometimes, but in the long run…yeah, I’m okay with this.”

“I’m not okay with this.” Riku says coldly and they all stare at him. He shrinks under their stares, “I’m not okay with this. And that’s why I’m doing it. To get it over with. I want things to—“ He breaks off but no one’s sure if it’s because he doesn’t want to say the words or if it’s because the waiter has shown up with their food.

For the most part, they eat in silence. Any words traded are banter, empty sentences to fill the night, stories told to keep back the night. Sora finishes first and then has to run to the bathroom because his soda is long empty. When the others are done, they slip out the door with a pile of munny left on the table that’s probably a far bigger tip than is necessary.

The night air outside is balmy and warm, sticking in their throats with each breath and carrying the scents of the city. Exhaust and pavement, sweat and metal, heat and coffee. It’s quiet, even in this forgotten world, even in this dense city. They cross the street and take the sidewalk towards the center of town, pushing and shoving and giggling to one another. Their footsteps are loud in the dark, shadows rippling under streetlamps. Lea makes shadow puppets with his hands and Sora joins him, laughing when he gets his fingers tangled up.

A taxi drives by them, relishing the empty streets with speeds that would be impossible in the clogged daylight hours. Sora chases after it, waving his hands in the air, and Lea follows after him. The redhead catches up easily on his longer legs and knocks his hands down, frowning and muttering about harassing people unnecessarily. Sora kicks at his shins and Lea dances out of the way as the rest of the group catches up.

Somewhere in the night and buried under the fuzzy lights of the city, there’s the mournful sound of saxophone. Riku tilts his head to listen until it fades into the darkness. The air tastes like hot pavement and metal.

There’s a bridge stretched over a wide, grand river that splits the city in two and they pause in their trek across it. Sora heaves himself over the railing and looks down into the dark rapids below, the wind twisting his spikes, and he grins at the vertigo. Riku grabs the back of his shorts and hauls him back to safety before pulling his hood up against the wind. Lea leans against the rail, arms crossed in front of him, and stares at the city lights dancing along the riverbank and reflecting in the rippling waters.

None of them are talking, they don’t need to, not right now. The silence between them, the meal they’d shared, all of that has been enough.

Kairi picks up her paper dragon and drops it over the edge of the bridge.

All of them watch it twist and drift through the air, carried on the wind and the murmurs of Kairi’s Aero spell.

It goes under the bridge and they lose sight of it. The dark waters have probably swallowed it whole. But that’s all right. They look back out across the lights fighting back the darkness.

The Sora turns around and says seriously, “Kairi, that was littering.”


	50. Traverse Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The palm trees in the Garden remind him of home.

It is always night in Traverse Town.

But it is not the cold kind of night, not the fearful kind of night, not the kind of night that makes you want to hide under your covers and pretend the shadows aren’t reaching for you. Traverse Town nights are warm, they are comfort, they are soothing, and they are gentle. Even when fighting enemies in the back streets or around the brightly lit fountain, they are sweet nights, delicate and festive and brilliant.

In the First District, the air is always sweet with the fragrance of cooked meals from the cafe and the smokey smells that drift in a multicolored haze from the Synthesis Shop. It is a welcoming sort of scent, like coming home after a long time. Not quite home, but almost.

The Second District is too big and wide, too open. It’s the market center, empty plastic figures in shop windows wearing clothes no one will buy and warm hotel lights spilling onto the pavement. It’s a good place to fight but it’s not comfortable. Nothing about it feels as welcoming as the First District. The Gizmo Shop and the Bell Tower loom over the Second District like a sentinel, silent and watching.

Electric sparks light the Third District. It is very yellow, draped in red banners and spangled with the flickering lights reflecting off the fountain in the corner of the square. The lights in the empty house are off and its windows look tired. It smells like ozone and the air is sharp and crackles when you move through it.

Fountain Plaza is bright too, but not in the stark and jarring way that the Third District is. The mosaic tiles flow and swirl like the water in the fountain, ripples created by the people who walked the paths. The buildings here are taller, deeper into the heart of the Town, and they are often painted with bright swatches of graffiti, ineligible scrawls of jagged paint that mean nothing to anyone except for those who tagged the stonework.

In comparison to the rest of Traverse Town, the Back Streets are dark. Not pitch black but far darker than the rest of the town. They are coated in deeper shadows and sharp edges of light filtered through smeared streetlamp glass and the flickers of ancient neon signs. Water ways and secret passages riddle the twisted alleys, close knit walls tagged with fading paint and the back windows of buildings looking sleepily out onto empty stone paths. There are caverns below the streets and ledges high up by the roofs where taking a breather is comfortable and peaceful.

The Fourth District is bright. It is alive with colors and lights and it sparkles and glitters like the jewel of the town. Music filters faintly through the air, balloons and flags and lights strung high over the streets splash colors across the walls. The lights reflect off one another, smeary in chalking lines over the paving stones. The massive building at the edge of the district is inviting and raucous in its brilliant pastel paints. There is a tower in the center of the clustered, festive buildings; fun to climb and vault off of. The stars seem closer from its peak and the lights from below cannot wash out their brilliance.

If not for the Dream Eaters, the Fifth District and its Garden would be a soothing, cooling balm, a perfect place for peace and relaxation. The top of the glass Garden causes a wonderful sense of vertigo to look down through its smoky condensation and see the greenery below. It is equally enjoyable to be inside amongst the humid warmth of the plants inside and to have the rich scent of earth fill your lungs with each breath. The distant brightness of the Fourth District is just visible over the tops of the buildings.

It is always night in Traverse Town. But that does not mean it is dark.

Riku tries to keep this in mind as he walks the faded streets.


	51. Recusant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I, a stranger and afraid  
> In a world I never made” - A. E. Housman

Sora’s mother walks into his bedroom to summon him for dinner (because what if he doesn’t answer, what if he’s not there). She finds him crouched on his floor tearing patches out of his clothes.

****

His hand is shaking as he tries to write.

Kairi can see it shivering on the desk, shuffling the paper across the plastic top. His pencil is pressed hard into the paper.

The lead snaps.

It skitters over the edge of the desk and hits the floor. In the silence of the testing classroom, it tingles like the distant sound of a silver bell.

Riku makes a tight breathy noise. He sets the broken pencil down with all the calmness of a summer breeze, pushes his chair back, and walks out of the room.

****

She wishes she understood.

They’ve explained it to her, multiple times, multiple ways. But she doesn’t understand it like they do. She knows she doesn’t and she hates that she doesn’t. She doesn’t understand their fear or their anger or their frustration. She’s only watched from the sidelines.

But Sora and Riku are her’s. She doesn’t have a word for what they are (or for what she is to them)—they are just _her’s_. And she’s going to protect them. She’s going to protect them and hold them and help them.

They need help.

She saw it when they came back from the Mark of Mastery Exam.

She sees it now.

****

Sora smudges his foot through Sophie and Tidus’ game of tic-tac-toe in the sand. He mutters some apology about not watching where he’s going and pretends to look sheepish.

When they stomp off in a huff, he kicks the rest of the game away so no trace of it remains.

****

“It’s like…” He pauses, searches for the right words, eyebrows drawn together ever so slightly, “He called it a sigil but it’s. More like a brand. Feels—felt like a brand.”

“It feels like he can watch you through it.” Sora adds almost absently. His fingers are twisted so tightly into the strings of his hoodie his skin is white around them, “He said he can track us—anyone who wears his mark. But…” A shudder ripples through him, “It feels like eyes. Watching.”

“Mm.” Riku nods in agreement.

Kairi feels sick.

****

He pushes away the offered bowl of hot buns his mother got at the market. He looks queasy.

His parents ask what’s wrong but he only shakes his head. His mother presses the buns towards him again (“you’re not eating enough, you hardly eat anything anymore, what happened to your big appetite?”). Riku’s stomach turns over and he excuses himself from the table as quickly as he can.

****

He feels brands on his skin, carved there with blades and burned there with iron. There’s nothing there—he checks his body over and over and over—but it feels like they are.

His skin feels cold and prickly.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He feels like someone is watching.

****

Part of it is fear, part of it is paranoia.

Most of it, they think, is anger.

At everything that man has done, everything he plans to do. Anger. And pain. And a dash of fear.

****

“When we stop him, everything will be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm so bad about updating this. There's only three shots left to post after this and then I've run out of things. There's ones I've started and haven't finished and I don't know that I ever will.  
> Maybe when KH X comes out tomorrow I might get inspired again. We'll see.


	52. Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carelessness is not an excuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot remember what inspired this shot or why I wrote it.

She cups her hands around the wavering light, drawing it close to her chest to protect it from the darkness.

It is so dark here. The feeble light of the heart in her hands is a dying candle flame against the thick blackness. She doesn’t even know how she’s holding this heart, it shouldn’t be possible. But it is warm and she won’t let it go, not for anything, not even if Xehanort himself shows up to claim it.

She creeps through the darkness, clutching the heart delicately like a broken bird, firmly like a sword. It flickers, sparks sputtering. It is muddied crystal, its surface scratched and scraped and scared by so much pain and fighting, its light is weak and the color of aging pages, white faded into pale yellow and edges singed in a painful blue.

That such a strong heart could be rendered so helpless…

She swallows the tears that want to form and pushes onward.

The darkness is cold. She doesn’t know where the others are, they were separated long before this. She’s not even sure how to contact them. This is her fault, if she had just been stronger, if she had only known—

But fretting won’t change anything now. She has to get the heart to safety, away from the shadows of these tunnels, back into the sunlight.

It feels like it takes hours. Days. Years. With each careful step she knows she is closer but with each step the heart in her hands seems to grow weaker. She has never felt such fear as this; fear of loss, fear of anger, fear of abandonment. She is so afraid. And so very, very sorry.

The darkness in the tunnel splinters as light shines down it. Not the exit, it is too abrupt for that. Voices, there are voices calling and the others have found her. They have finally, finally found her!

Lea is there first, spikes brushing the ceiling, flames sparking at his heels as he burns the darkness away. The flickering light makes funny shadows on his sharp features, “You’re okay! Geez, you were gone for ages! What, you get lost?”

She wants to say something but it feels like the darkness is clogging her throat and she afraid and ashamed, so ashamed and hurt and sorry.

“You found them!” Sora, bursting with light, tripping over his feet as he wedges himself past Lea, “Man, we were worried about you! Lea was the most worried!”

“Was not!”

“Was too!”

“Was—hey, wait a sec.”

Light Almighty, they’ve noticed.

“Xion…” Lea’s voice is careful, careful like it never is, careful and worried and no, Lea, no that’s not how you’re supposed to be, please, “Xion…where’s—“

Her fingers tremble as he holds her hands out.

The last pieces of light splinter away into the shadows of the tunnel.

Her hands are empty.

“…Roxas?”


	53. Juxtaposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it black on white, or white on black?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I held off on posting these last two because I guess I was hoping I would get inspired to write more. But, unfortunately, I've had nothing for a long time. So I'm posting these last two shots and that will be the end of that.  
> Thank you all so much for sticking around and reading these and leaving so many amazing, lovely comments. You're all the best <3

“Are you here again?”

He doesn’t look away from the pod in front of him but his fingers twitch in a way that says he was startled out of his thoughts. The black cloak he wears stands out sharply against the brilliant white of the room. The hood is folded down around his shoulders like rumpled wings.

“Can he hear us in there?” He asks without looking at her.

She shakes her head, brushing blond hair over her shoulder, “No. He’s deep asleep while I fix the broken chains of his memories. To him, the rest of the world doesn’t exist. To him, his is the world of dreams.”

“I just wanted to tell him…” He trails off before he finishes. He tightens the black cloth around his eyes and says nothing more.

***

“Is it peaceful? This—this sleep of his? It’s peaceful, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. He deserves that.”

She wants to say ‘you deserve it too’.

***

When she sees him in the room again, his fists are clenched. He looks unsettled.

“Is everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer at first. He just keeps looking up at the pod. Its surface ripples in the light, iridescent, something like glass and crystal and marble all smeared together. The petals of the pod fold over one another in a delicate embrace.

“You know what he wants me to do?”

It’s her turn not to answer. She drops her gaze and tangles her fingers together in front of her dress. It’s as white as the room around them.

They juxtapose each other like this. It’s fitting, almost; she in a pale, empty nothingness and he in black darkness staining the pureness of the room.

“Are you going to do it?”

He turns completely away from her, shows her a back he hardly ever shows to anyone for fear of the knives it could draw,

“I’ll do anything for them.”

His footsteps are loud as he leaves the room.

***

The person in the room does not look like him. This figure seems to suck in the white light of the room, so dark against the walls, their height both impressive and intimidating. Their hood is up, hiding their features from the world.

She knows it’s him anyway.

“You did it.” It’s not a question but it’s not an accusation either.

“I did what I did for them. For him.” The voice is wrong. And even though it’s wrong it is still warm and it is still full of love.

She walks softly across the room, her footsteps make no noise. She steps up beside him, looks up into the pod, looks up at the figure caressed in mist and dreams. Slowly, she reaches out and curls her pale fingers around the gloved hand of person beside her. He stiffens and she thinks he will draw away because this is not the hand he wants to be holding, not her hand, not here, not like this.

But he only gives her hand a gentle squeeze and lets the room remain silent.

***

“When he wakes up, don’t tell him what I did.”


	54. Phone Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2 much txting mks u 1 bad splr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ao3 broke the emojis on this and I haven't got around to fixing them. Sorry bout that.

(received 8:00am) Where are you? You’re late.

(received 8:02am) You had better not still be asleep.

(received 8:03am) Sora I swear if you’re still sleeping I will end you.

(received 8:03am) I’m giving you five minutes.

(received 8:12am) You are so late and in so much trouble.

(received 8:13am) I’m making you pay the Swear Jar for being late.

(sent 8:13am) rriikkuuuuu nnnnooooo :(

(sent 8:14am) im coming i swear!!!! im leaving rn!!!

(received 8:16am) Master Yen Sid says you’re paying the Swear Jar for being late to training.

(sent 8:16am) >:p

(received 8:17am) Master Yen Sid says you’re also paying for sticking your tongue out at him.

(received 8:17am) And if you don’t show up by 8:30 you’re doing laps around the Tower.

(sent 8:18am) OMG IM COMING YOU ASSHAT

(received 8:18am) That’s another hundred to the Swear Jar.

****

(sent 4:19pm) hey lea wanna come to tbe beach w us

(received 4:19pm) ?

(sent 4:20pm) only if you buy!

(received 4:22pm) 

****

(received 4:30pm) Stop using only emojis to text it’s annoying.

(sent 4:30pm)

(received 4:31pm) If you keep using emojis I will make your life a living hell.

(sent 4:31pm) 

(received 4:32pm) I will do it Lea.

(sent 4:32pm) 

(received 4:33pm) You’re on bathroom duty forever.

(received 4:33pm) You’re also paying the Swear Jar for every emoji you just sent me.

(received 4:33pm) And for ever single emoji you’ve sent anyone ever.

(sent 4:34pm) what a party pooper

(sent 4:34pm) changing your contact name to “Master Party Pooper”

(received 4:34pm) You’re uninvited to the beach.

****

(received 12:58am) did u find him

(sent 12:58am) not yet I’ll keep looking though

(sent 12:58am) have you looked in the sandlot?

(received 12:59am) ye hes not there

(received 12:59am) r u sure hes in tt?

(sent 12:59am) where else would he go?

(received 1:00am) anywhere riku can jump thro darkness he could be anywhere

(sent 1:00am) you know him better than that kairi, you know he wouldn’t ditch us

(received 1:01am) i know

(received 1:01am) im just worried bout him

(sent 1:02am) we’ll find him we always do

(sent 1:02am) and then we’ll kidnap him and tie him up in bed

(received 1:03am) omg sora ;)

(sent 1:04am) AAAJKSHDFUIYFBX NOT LIKE THAT KAIRI THATS DIRTY

(received 1:06am) lea txt me rikus in mansion

(received 1:06am) meet u there when u r not dying <3

(sent 1:07am) I hat eyou kaiir

****

(received 5:22pm) Your room or Kairi’s?

(sent 5:23pm) can we do yours?

(received 5:23pm) We’ve been in my room the past three nights. It’s someone else’s turn.

(received 5:24pm) Besides I’m tired of you ripping my sheets out. I have to put them back every morning to make my bed.

(sent 5:24pm) but your bed is so bbiiigggg

(sent 5:25pm) it’s not MY fault!!!! I’m just a very active dreamer

(received 5:25pm) Kairi says we’re going to her place tonight. Tough.

(sent 5:26pm) fffiiiinnnneeeee

(sent 5:26pm) I get the big blue pillow then!!!!!!

(sent 5:26pm) and the blue blanket!!!!

(received 5:27pm) Sorry I’m out of cell phone range. I don’t think those last texts went through. See you at Kairi’s.

(sent 5:27pm) rriiikkkuuuuu!!! don’t be meeeaannnn!!!

(sent 5:28pm) riku don’t you dare take my pillow

(sent 5:30pm) RIKU ARE YOU ALREADY AT KAIRIS PLACE

(received 5:30pm) No. :)

(sent 5:31pm) RIKU IMMA PUMMEL YOU

(received 5:31pm) Kairi says if we get into another pillow fight in her room she’s making us sleep in separate guest rooms.

(received 5:31pm) sora get ur ass over here we r watchin movies with cookies n milk

(sent 5:32pm) on my way!!!!!!!!!!!!! <333333333333

(received 5:37pm) SORA YOU DUMB FUCK STOP GLIDING UP TO THE WINDOW AND GO TO THE FRONT DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON

****

(sent 6:21am) Kairi said you’re going out for a coffee. Grab me one too.

(received 6:22am) 

(sent 6:22am) What did I tell you about sending me emojis.

(received 6:23am) deal with it

(received 6:23am) Im going on the coffee run Im the boss

(received 6:23am) or I can just bring you back an empty cup and you can fill it with the broken tears that will stream down your face because you regret you were ever mean to me and didnt get your coffee

(sent 6:23am) You are not the boss of anything. Not even your own hair if that’s anything to judge you by.

(sent 6:24am) You’re such a jerk. Fine. French vanilla, double shots, no whipped cream.

(sent 6:24am) Please.

(received 6:25am) see that wasnt so hard 

(sent 6:25am) Just go.

(received 6:26am) 

(sent 6:26am) I hate you.

****

(received 9:10pm) meet at tt sandlot asap

(received 9:10pm) bring snacks

(sent 9:10pm) Why?

(received 9:11pm) party stupid

(received 9:11pm) lea keapt his kblade out all training thats cuz for celeb

(received 9:12pm) bside we deserve it

(sent 9:13pm) This is silly. WE didn’t get parties when WE got our Keyblades.

(received 9:13pm) we were busy fighting forces of evil

(received 9:14pm) sora says this can be our party too

(received 9:14pm) dont be a pooper riku

(sent 6:15pm) Okay, okay, I’m coming. With snacks.

(sent 6:15pm) Also several blankets because I know we’re going to be out there all night.

(received 6:16pm) nah after party in lot we r going to island to swim and mke smores

(sent 6:16pm) Great then I’ll bring blankets AND towels.

(received 6:17pm) we can watch the stars just like we used to and imagine all the other worlds out there

(sent 6:17pm) It will be better than before. Because everyone’s here this time. And we have each other. And nothing will ever separate us ever again.

(received 6:18pm) u r sweet riku

(sent 6:19pm) I know.


End file.
